Second Chances
by rapturesrevenge
Summary: -CloTi/Zaeris/Yuffentine- Because everyone deserves a second chance. Chapter 7 up!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Just so I don't have to write this thing over and over again, I'm telling y'all right now that I own nothing, just copies of _Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children, _the _Advent Children_ soundtrack, and _Final Fantasy VIII_. Said titles and their settings and characters belong to Squaresoft/Square Enix. _Kingdom Hearts _and all associated titles, characters and ideas belong to Square Enix and Disney. They're far richer and infinitely more creative than I am. If I were that kind of ass-kicking cool, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction in my spare time.

**AN:** Completely revised/rewritten as of 13 January 2008. Many thanks to wolkevompinguin for the beta.

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High above on the horizon, the sky and the ocean below it were awash with the bright colors of sunset. Oranges mingled with shades of purple and pink before giving way to the nighttime blues that crept in from the east. A soft breeze, enough to lessen the effects of the heat without chilling those people who had ventured outside to watch perhaps one of the most beautiful natural wonders, played about their hair, causing the strands to tickle any bare skin they touched. It was calm. It was perfect.

Casting glances at the two adults seated on either side of him on the roof they'd chosen for the evening, the young Keyblade master felt he'd done the right thing in asking them to join him for the evening. It had been awkward, asking them, but in the end, the awkwardness faded, replaced instead by a familiar sort of ease that he could understand without truly understanding it at all. And was he ever grateful for that initial nervousness to be gone! He didn't want to leave in the morning without having gotten to spend some time with his hero and the young woman whose strength and loyalty he admired so much. No, he wanted his last evening in Radiant Garden to paint some of the most beautiful and treasured memories he'd ever make in his lifetime.

It wasn't as though he'd get to do this when he returned home. Not the way he was now.

And so, over hot dogs and burgers they ordered from a stand in the marketplace – the Keyblade master could still barely contain the giggy excitement he'd felt when his hero fished one of the hot dogs out of the paper sack and handed it to him – they told stories of their childhoods, their adventures, laughing as the evening wore on. They fell silent when the colors in the sky intensified. He leaned into the young woman's shoulder a little while still being hugged tight against his hero's left side. Not since his quest began had be felt so thoroughly happy. Everything – he hoped – was okay now. Everything would finally _be_ okay. Having seen what he'd seen, having done what he'd done, it was all he could ever hope for, he realized. He'd learned so much in the last two years, but learning to hold onto his hope was the most powerful lesson of all.

"Did you know that Cloud and I used to do this when we were kids?"

The Keyblader glanced up at the young woman, whose ruby-colored eyes sparkled brightly as she smiled at him. He hadn't expected either adult to break the silence, even though the young woman was infinitely more open, therefore approachable, than the young man holding them both. "Really, Tifa?" Privately, the boy hoped he sounded surprised. It wouldn't do for him to sound skeptical or sarcastic. Nor would it do for him to sound as though he already knew what she was telling him.

"Uh-huh. We would sneak off in the afternoon – Cloud was already a bit of an explorer so no one paid his slipping off much attention – and sit at an old well in our village an watch the sun sink down over the mountains." Tifa ruffled the boy's hair with her right hand, which had been resting on his shoulder since Cloud put an arm around both of them. "I've seen a lot of sunsets since then. None of them really compare to a sunset in the mountains."

The boy smiled a little, remembering the days when his mother would go with him out to the island to watch the sunset when they didn't watch it from the roof of their house. "I've always watched the sun set over the ocean…I've never really watched it set over mountains before."

Beside him, Cloud snorted a little. There was a distinct lack of humor in the sound, and the man's face was as blank as ever. When he spoke, though, his tone held notes of amusement. "You're missing out, then, Sora."

Sora snorted before he could stop himself. "Nah. From what you've told me, it gets really cold in your hometown. I've had enough snow to last me a lifetime." He then told them about his adventures in ancient China with a girl named Mulan. At first, neither adult reacted when Sora described running around in the cold in naught but shorts and a t-shirt. Having grown up in the mountains of Nibelheim, both Cloud and Tifa were fairly immune to the cold. When the lad mentioned having to slog through waist-deep snow in said outfit, however, Cloud shuddered while Tifa scolded him. As accustomed to the cold as they were, both adults had sense enough to bundle up to protect themselves from the elements when there was snow on the ground.

The grown man only listened with half an ear while Tifa continued her scolding of their younger companion. It was a habit he'd gotten into lately, as much as he hated himself for it. When he heard Sora's somewhat sarcastic, mostly playful -- and strangely disconcerting – utterance of, "Yes, Mom," Cloud fought to suppress the shivers that threatened to run the length of his spine. He glanced at the boy, an eyebrow raised curiously. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or annoyed when Sora didn't notice.

Cloud decided to let his annoyance go. He didn't want to spoil the easy camaraderie with a sour attitude. It was a miracle he hadn't put Sora in a sanatorium yet. Spirits knew everyone else was close to committing themselves if they weren't already thinking about putting him in a padded room. "We're going to miss you when you go," he murmured sincerely. Cloud noticed the way Tifa blinked in surprise, taken aback by his sudden and inexplicable willingness to share his feelings when he was normally so reserved.

Sora looked at the young man in something akin to genuine curiosity. "You mean it?" The boy's tone held a note of skepticism that made their female companion forget her own surprise and giggle.

Cloud regarded the boy stoically. For reasons he could not completely understand, he was always startled by the boy's resemblance to him; the nearly exact same gravity-defying hair style, if brown instead of blond, and those same blue eyes made him feel as if he were looking himself in the mirror. Hiding his astonishment well behind a mask of cool regard, Cloud took his time to answer. It seemed to his companions as though he were deciding if Sora could be trusted with such information. Finally, after stretching the silence precariously close to the breaking point, Cloud nodded slightly. "Yeah."

He watched Sora smile, the boy's blue eyes sparkling a little in a fashion eerily familiar to Cloud's ever-observant gaze. It surprised him when Sora remained silent, yet still firmly attached to his side. Why the boy admired and idolized him was beyond reckoning. The brooding swordsman felt he'd done nothing to warrant such…_respect_. Still, the boy had invited him to spend the evening with him. How could he refuse? "Sora,"

Sora blinked in surprise before his expression shifted to one of barely-concealed nervousness. "Yeah?"

The young man hesitated for but a fraction of a second. "Thanks."

The boy only grinned broadly before returning his gaze to the horizon, though he did snuggle closer against his hero. On Sora's other side, Tifa smiled at Cloud and leaned over to kiss his cheek softly the way she did before he'd go out somewhere. Cloud decided he did not mind if Sora crowded his personal space or if Tifa touched him, though at present he wasn't one to truly reciprocate such affections. He felt didn't deserve them. However, he did get a chance to see if his hypothesis was indeed correct. That smile Sora showed him was definitely one Cloud had seen before, though on another face. It was a face he knew very, very well.

As the sun sank lower and lower on the horizon and the light faded in the streets of Radiant Garden, Cloud, Tifa and Sora remained on the roof they'd been sitting on all evening. Cloud couldn't remember a time when he'd felt so peaceful after escaping Shinra, aside from those quiet moments he and Tifa shared at various points in their adventures together with their friends. He missed those times. Not necessarily the times when their lives were in danger, but those wonderful, quiet moments in between when the world faded away. Those brief periods where they could forget about everyone and everything else except each other.

How strange, he thought, that he could feel so at ease with a boy he barely knew – a familiar, beloved soul in a stranger's skin.

The question slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself. "Where will you go?"

Sora stifled a yawn. "Home." He glanced at Cloud, as if stunned that the blond warrior had willingly spoken to him without prompting from Tifa or someone else. He averted his eyes quickly to keep Cloud and Tifa from seeing his emotions play across his face as they were. "I've gotta go back to my mom. We're all we've got."

Tifa and Cloud exchanged looks. A familiar tale from a stranger's tongue. The young woman's brow furrowed in concern. "What happened to your dad?"

Sora shrugged, a gesture which suddenly seemed much too Cloud-like. "He died when I was a baby. I don't have any memories of him. My aunts and uncles talk about him all the time even though Mom won't, and there are a lot of pictures. Riku's mom has known Mom for a while, and she knew Dad. Every time she sees me, she says Dad was a great guy and he would've been proud of me." A note of wistfulness crept into the boy's voice, joining the tones of bitterness in a serenade known all too well by the adults he sat with. Tifa had grown up without her mother and lost her father when she was fifteen. Cloud never knew his father, and like Tifa, lost his mother when he was in his teens – the night Sephiroth went on a rampage and slaughtered the citizens of Nibelheim.

For a while the two young adults didn't know what to say in response to the chilling confession. Cloud didn't know what to think. Something that felt wrong, disgusting – _wrong! _–settled in the pit of his stomach. The boy's admission nauseated him. And he didn't know why it bothered him so much, which agitated him further. He wanted for Sora to laugh, to tell them he was joking. But the boy remained silent, the bitterness rolling off him like waves into shore. Still, Cloud felt he had to say something without dropping hints that he knew something he wasn't supposed to. "I'm sure your father would be proud of you." Truthfully, Cloud felt that was likely the case. The boy's father would be insane if he weren't proud of his son. Glancing at Tifa from the corner of his eye, the blond man saw that she too felt the nausea he was feeling, that she seemed to think it impossible for anyone to feel anything other than pride for what the boy had done.

"Cloud's right, Sora," Tifa asserted softly, but firmly. Cloud nodded when she lifted her eyes briefly to meet his before gazing at Sora once more. "If that's not enough for you, just think of how proud we both are of you, okay?"

The boy seemed to seriously consider the young woman's words before nodding slowly. "Yeah, okay. Thanks Tifa." He lifted his eyes to first meet the young woman's gaze, then to meet Cloud's, nodding again, this time with greater certainty. In the gathering dark of night, the sun having fully disappeared below the horizon, the boy's blushing face was barely visible. Only the light given off by streetlamps revealed the pink stain in the boy's skin.

With the sun now gone to bed, Cloud decided it was time for them to head back. There was no sense of urgency in the young man's voice or in his actions. He was very relaxed. They could take their time returning to Merlin's house. He felt that Tifa and Sora would like it if they walked around the town for a while first.

He hoped they would leap at the chance to drag the evening out as much as possible. It would give him time to think and observe. To withdraw without letting on that something was bothering him.

As he thought about it, Cloud snorted inwardly. There was always something bothering him, and people always seemed to know when he was disturbed. Tifa and Aeris were especially in tune with him. He wondered if Zack would be as in tune with him as the aforementioned women. Given the way they'd bonded in Modeoheim, Cloud determined that he wouldn't at all be surprised if Zack could see right through him as Tifa and Aeris could.

Speaking of Zack, where was he? Why wasn't he in Radiant Garden with Aeris?

"Cloud?"

_Shit._

The swordsman raised his head, glancing around before resting his eyes on Tifa and Sora, who stood a few paces ahead of him. Both sported looks of concern. Were it not for the guilt he now felt for having caused them to worry, Cloud would have frowned slightly upon noticing that Sora's expression was a mixture of both concern and irritation.

_He knows something._

No one – except Aeris – knew. Cloud hadn't told them. He thought it best that they didn't know. Hopefully, by disappearing from their lives, he could fade away. No one would remember him.

Perhaps that was part of the reason he found Sora's presence to be so disconcerting, Cloud thought. Cloud Strife wasn't as clueless and dense as people routinely thought him to be. He was just prone to _ignoring_ that which he decided he didn't like. And Cloud decided that he didn't exactly like the way Sora was looking at him. It gave him hope, even though he felt he had none.

The boy wasn't exactly clever – he was far from it, actually – but Sora was evidently rather good at hiding things from others despite being an open book.

Sora's appearance, his mannerisms…they told Cloud of something he probably had no right knowing. They told Cloud far more than words ever could.

"The truth would be nice, Sora."

The words fell from Cloud's tongue like dead weight. Immediately, the easy camaraderie shattered like tempered glass. Cloud realized the atmosphere had changed to that of parents confronting their child with their desire for the truth in the face of a lie. He remembered it from his childhood. He remembered it from the times he and Tifa caught Marlene and Denzel in the act of making mischief. Neither position was enjoyable. It was even less enjoyable now, having come to the conclusions he'd reached within the last few minutes.

When Sora remained unwilling to answer, Cloud ventured toward the boy. "You knew me when you saw me. You knew Tifa when you saw her. You know Yuffie. Your friends know us too. How do you know us?"

He kept his eyes on Sora, but in his peripheral vision, Cloud noted the look of resignation on Tifa's face. _She noticed too,_ he mused to himself. He would have allowed himself to wonder at how amazing it was that Tifa always seemed to think along the same lines he did, but Cloud quickly shut off that traitorous part of his mind. Thoughts such as those were dangerous. If he ignored what Sora's presence meant for him – which he was rather intent on doing – then it would only hurt Tifa. Tifa was all Cloud had left. He couldn't bear to bring her any further pain. Getting involved with her, only to leave her forever…_no._ He couldn't hurt her like that. It would kill him hundreds, thousands, _countless_ times over to do that.

They knew the bittersweet feelings of having known something beautiful – home, family, friendship – only to have it ripped away. Cloud wanted to spare Tifa, and therefore himself, the fate of Zack and Aeris.

But this boy. This boy here before them. What he represented made the swordsman's heart swell with dangerous feelings: love, happiness, and _hope._

"You know already," Sora murmured quietly, voice almost inaudible in the evening hum of the town. His admission confirmed the swordsman's ideas. _He had been correct._ "Why do you need to ask me?"

Cloud continued toward the boy, stopping just within arm's reach. "Because I want answers."

The warrior felt a surge of pride when Sora raised his eyes – blue eyes shaped like his mother's – defiantly. The boy came by his stubborn streak honestly, Cloud thought. "And what happens if I tell you, Cloud? Will I still be born?"

As much as Cloud wanted to say, "no," he couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he nodded slightly. "There are things that have to happen, or so I've been told. You're one of them."

His words seemed to soothe the boy, for Sora relaxed – not much, for he still retained a high level of wary suspicion, but enough to appear ready to talk. Cloud decided to wait him out. If Sora wanted to drag his feet, that was okay. The blond man was willing to stand there for an eternity if need be until he got his answers.

And Sora finally appeared to understand that. He laughed humorlessly. "Reno was right. You are as unmoving as a rock, Dad."

_Dad._

Sora shook his head, seeing the bewilderment writ so clearly into Cloud and Tifa's faces. He'd had a feeling he wouldn't be able to hide the truth from them for long. He was just surprised that Cloud had been the one to ask, instead of Tifa. Looking back on his own memories, however, Sora knew that Tifa would never have asked him. She and Cloud were a rather lot alike. Both were as stubborn as mules, and they both liked to ignore things. As Reno had put it, it took the couple a while to be up front with one another about their feelings.

Glancing between the couple before him now, Sora knew he'd have to let them get together in their own time. As for the opportunity that was glaring like an overexposed photograph, Sora knew there was never a better chance to take it. He could still save them.

Lowering his gaze to stare at his feet, Sora breathed nervously. "My name is Sora Lockhart-Strife," he murmured quietly. He didn't want to see their reactions. If he looked now, Sora knew he'd run away. He'd do what his dad was doing now – running away. "My father is Cloud Strife…and my mother," he paused, voice shaky. "My mother is Tifa Lockhart."

Heavy silence fell over the small group. The scent of hope permeated the air before thoroughly saturating it until the atmosphere all but bled it. Sora knew that a good portion of that hopeful anticipation was coming from Tifa, but the more cautious version of the same feeling, the more dominant sense, came from Cloud. The lost, forlorn look that had dulled Cloud's eyes wasn't gone, but there was a spark hidden in those striking blue depths now. Sora could _feel_ it. The _weight_ of that darkness Cloud carried with him lifted, if only just a little. It was enough. It _had_ to be enough.

There was so much Sora wanted to tell them. There was more still that he couldn't. He couldn't tell them everything he knew. He couldn't tell them what he didn't know. If there were rules to be followed, Sora didn't know what they were. Best to say as much as possible without saying too much. It was a principle Vincent and Tseung impressed upon him from the time he was old enough to understand.

But how much was too much?

A pair of strong, masculine arms closing around him drew him back to reality. "Neither of us dies that easy, Sora."

"You're a hypocrite."

He felt Cloud jerk as if he'd been scalded, or perhaps hit with an electricity-based spell instead. Given the man's general immunity to the cold, Sora thought a vat of ice water wouldn't shock Cloud nearly as much as the other two. "What makes you say that?" He heard and felt Cloud's voice rumble against his ear.

"You don't believe that about yourself." Sora kept his voice soft so that only Cloud could hear the words even with Tifa standing so close to them.

Sora didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed when Cloud did not respond. He did not want to hear any claims denying Cloud's hard-held beliefs that he would die after fighting so hard – and so long – to survive. The man was a survivor. Sora had grown up hearing the tales told by members of his extended family. Only the stories his mother and Tseung told him described everything in full. _Of course Mom and Tseung would know best, after Dad himself, anyway._

"You get through everything because you've got it in you to stay alive," Sora heard himself say. "We need you…me and Mom…we need you to stay with us."

_We need you…_

Cloud couldn't find it within himself to argue. How could he?

And yet, he couldn't bring himself to fully believe the boy's words, either. He'd let two dear friends die. He'd let Tifa get hurt more than a few times. He himself was dying. What good was he if he couldn't protect those he cared for? What good was he if he couldn't protect himself? What good did a sick, dying man do anyone?

Easy. The sick, dying man who failed his loved ones on a continual basis did nothing.

But Sora's words struck a chord deep inside his heart, stirring his soul in the process.

"When?"

Sora shook his head. "I can't tell you. Just please, _please._ Be careful. Don't give up."

Cloud looked at Tifa then. She seemed as equally uncomfortable with the situation as Cloud did. The swordsman felt guilty again, this time for having confronted Sora about this with Tifa around. He supposed her discomfort stemmed from knowing that in time, she would be a mother, to her best friend's child no less. Cloud knew Tifa loved him. For God's sakes, he loved her too, he really did. He just couldn't imagine how Tifa felt. Removing one arm from around Sora's lanky teenage shoulders, Cloud invited his childhood friend to join the embrace as a measure of comfort. To his relief as much as his chagrin, the young woman accepted. "He won't give up, Sora," Tifa said firmly. "We won't let him."

Face still pressed into Cloud's front, the adults heard Sora snort.

The swordsman sighed heavily. Promises were dangerous things to make. The promise to Tifa when they were kids. The promise he'd made to Zack. The promise to Aeris.

He was horrible at keeping promises. And here he was, about to make another one.

It was a promise, however, he knew he needed to make.

"We'll be fine, Sora. I promise."

Sora snorted again. This time, he finally brought his arms up to hug Cloud tightly. "You'd better be."

"We will."

They spoke no more, breaking the moment only to walk around the town. Cloud kept an arm around Tifa's waist, the other around Sora's shoulders. Only when the clock struck midnight did they turn back, their feet carrying them to Merlin's house. The camaraderie had returned. There was a lighter, warmer feel to it now. And Cloud decided he was going to enjoy it while he still had it. Even if he never knew this again in his lifetime, he was glad to have known it, if only for an evening.

Leon was waiting for them when the old wizard's house finally came into view. Aeris stood a ways behind him. Both were smiling, though Leon's smile wasn't as noticeable from a distance as the flower maiden's. As they drew closer to the house, Leon stepped out to meet them. "We may never meet again, but we'll never forget each other." His smile widened a little, taking on a warmer glow as he regarded Sora with a degree of fondness they never saw when the brunet smiled at anyone else.

Cloud allowed Sora to shrug his arm off in favor of embracing the Gunblader tightly. "Thanks for everything, Leon."

To everyone's surprise, Leon chuckled a little. "You can call me 'Squall,' Sora. It's okay if you do, now."

The blond man and his martial artist companion watched bemusedly as the boy claiming to be their son slowly recovered from his shock to grin brightly at the Gunblader. "If you say so, Squall."

Squall snorted, then gently pushed the boy back. "Riku and Kairi are waiting up for you. Get to bed."

"Yes, sir!" Sora said, snapping to attention and giving a mock-salute to the restoration committee's leader. Stopping only to hug Aeris and exchange pleasantries with her, Sora darted inside. Once his pounding footsteps faded up the stairs, Leon – _Squall_ – and Aeris turned to the blond swordsman and the martial artist he held close.

"You took longer than we thought you would," Squall stated. "He tell you?"

Cloud nodded, but it was Tifa who answered. "He's ours. I can't explain it, but it's like my body knows him." She looked at Aeris pointedly, but the Ancient only smiled. Tifa sighed, slightly frustrated. "I understand that there are things he can't tell us, but what I want to know is why he didn't walk away. Why did he stay so close to us?"

"He wants to know the man his mother loves," Aeris said simply, her warm green eyes resting on Cloud.

Squall regarded Cloud as well. "Don't disappoint him, Strife."

Cloud snorted. "You act more like his father than I do."

The Gunblader snorted. "You're not the only one who had a kid show up." He motioned to the inside of the house upon seeing the questioning looks Cloud and Tifa wore. "Kairi looks like Rinoa."

Everyone knew who Rinoa was. Squall's fiancée.

Tifa searched Squall's face. "What about Riku?" Though it was possibly too much to hope for given the surly silver-haired teen's tight-lipped manner around everyone save Aeris, Tifa hoped that the 16-year-old had talked to Squall. They'd all noticed how he'd kept his distance from Cloud – and vice versa – most likely due to his appearance. The boy _did_ look like Sephiroth, after all.

Squall pursed his lips before shaking his head. "Hasn't said a word. Aeris is the only one he'll talk to, and she's not talking."

The young woman in question shook her head with a smile. "I will not betray his confidence."

"Exactly what I mean," Squall muttered. He stared into the darkness of the street, turning to go inside as he began to yawn. "I'm going to bed. Good-night."

Cloud, Tifa, and Aeris all bid the younger man a good night's rest, but did not move from their places just outside the front door. Much to the flower maiden's delight, Cloud had not yet released his hold on Tifa. His arm was still around her waist. Maybe there was hope for them both after all.

The young woman also noted the faint traces of depression in her friends' faces. Smiling kindly, she reached out to touch Cloud's face and Tifa's shoulder. "Good-byes aren't forever, you know." Her eyes drifted down to rest briefly on Tifa's stomach before returning to the younger woman's beautiful ruby eyes. "You'll see him again."

Her friends nodded slowly. "What about you, Aeris?" Tifa asked quietly. "What about Zack?"

Aeris only continued to smile. "We'll just have to wait and see, Tifa." She embraced them both. "Don't worry about us. Zack and I are fine. We will be okay, no matter what happens."

She stepped back when she heard them finally agree with her, ushering them into the house and up to bed. They had a long day tomorrow, just as Sora, Riku and Kairi did. They needed their rest so that they would be able to deal with what was to come.

A gloved hand came to rest on her shoulder. She smiled, and allowed herself to be pulled back to lean against a firm, muscular body. "I think they got the message. Cloud especially."

"I hope so," came the reply. "Chocobo-head can be kinda dense."

Aeris giggled. "Be that as it may, I believe that's a case of the pot calling the kettle black, Zachary."

Her companion chuckled quietly. "At least I told you I was interested." He released her, if only to take her hand in his. "Coming home?" The hope in his face was quickly replaced by disappointment when she shook her head, explaining that she had things yet to do. Knowing there was no way to convince her otherwise, her companion smiled and kissed her softly before heading off into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Revised as of 16 January 2009.

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**Chapter Two**

It was over.

As he forced his fatigued legs to carry his battered body up the stairs, Cloud wondered if it was normal to feel so spent. Lighter though he may now feel, he was certain that the cause of his weariness was the relief he felt. Next time, Cloud mused, he wouldn't keep everything inside. Harboring at least two years' worth of guilt was exhausting work. He just didn't realize it until now.

Downstairs, the victory party, which also doubled as an Avalanche reunion, was raucous and energetic. The neighbors and patrons were probably wondering why the 7th Heaven bar seemed much noisier than normal when it was closed. Tifa never allowed anyone among the regulars to get piss-drunk stupid; once someone was buzzed, they were sent home. The only reason the members of Avalanche – and the Turks too, because they were there as well – were allowed to drink themselves into a stupor was that everyone held a healthy respect for Tifa and the two little children that called 7th Heaven home. Currently, everyone was behaving, but it was still so loud. It was a far cry from the way Cloud was feeling. All he wanted was to curl up on his bed and sleep. He didn't care if he slept for a few hours or a year. He was just so tired.

Pausing outside his bedroom door, he wondered how the hell he'd survived the last two years. He'd tortured himself to the point that he'd all but ceased sleeping and eating, making the emotional and psychological drain affect him physically. Upon seeing how scrawny Cloud had become, Tifa wouldn't let him even have a sip of whisky until his stomach was full. She'd then sent him up to bed after his second shot. "Shera and I can manage. Go to bed, Cloud. You look like you're about to fall over." She had reached over the bar to take his hand, to which he responded by placing his other hand over hers.

The clock on the back wall read "10:24 p.m.," but Cloud didn't argue. Instead, he nodded and stood, releasing her hand as he backed away from the bar. Before he reached the stairs, he ducked behind the bar to put his arms around her, kissing her cheek softly. "Wake me up if you need anything," he'd told her. Only when she'd agreed to rouse him in the event things got out of hand did he release her – albeit very reluctantly – and head up the stairs.

Just as Cloud was about to turn the knob and enter his room, a loud crash from downstairs startled him into reaching for his sword. He allowed himself to relax a little when he heard Yuffie squeal indignantly, followed by her shouts of, "Cid," "Barret" and "piss-drunk perverts!" The mere thought of what possibly happened down there brought a sleepy smirk to his face. Any number of things involving those three could inspire such a reaction from the self-proclaimed "Great Ninja." Most of them, however, were not high on Cloud's list of things he needed to see in his lifetime.

The swordsman was also very glad that he allowed Tifa to monitor his drinking whenever he asked for something from the bar. He didn't want to know what might happen if he ever got drunk off his ass.

"Cloud?"

The sound of the tiny, sleepy voice clenched at Cloud's heart. He turned to see the kids standing in the hallway, hair mussed and eyelids drooping. Despite his own desires to crawl into his warm bed and sleep for a month, Cloud could never turn the kids down. "What is it, Marlene?" He hoped their being awake wasn't the result of nightmares about all they'd been through in the past two days. Granted, if that was the case, they couldn't help it. It was a natural thing, the subconscious working overtime and bringing traumatic experiences back in one's sleep, even years after the event. Cloud still had nightmares, and he knew Tifa did too. That knowledge did nothing to ease the swordsman's nervousness in regards to the matter at hand. Cloud wasn't sure how to go about comforting two young children freshly awakened by bad dreams. Guiltily, he knew it was because he hadn't been around to learn.

"Can we sleep with you?"

The little girl's voice sounded almost sad because of being jerked from her slumber. A glance at the boy told the young man that his story would mirror Marlene's. Neither seemed skittish or upset, only sleepy, and Cloud withheld a sigh of relief. At least nightmares weren't the culprit. Kneeling down, Cloud opened his arms to encourage the children to come to him. They did, tripping over their own feet in their sleep-drunkenness as they made their way to him. Cloud easily picked them up and carried them to his room.

He never worried about changing from day clothes into his pajamas in front of the kids. They were used to the idea that Cloud, being an adult man, might stumble from his room one morning in nothing but his boxers on his way to the bathroom. He'd actually done it a few times in the rare event he was home. With the little ones falling asleep in his arms even before their feet left the ground, Cloud was sure they wouldn't care.

Inside the relative seclusion of his room, Cloud carefully laid the children on his bed, tucking the covers around their shoulders to make sure they were snug and warm. Satisfied that the cold air from the air conditioner would not bother them, he set about getting ready for bed. The first thing he removed was his sword, placing it in the corner nearest his bed and within easy reach in case of an emergency. His armor, vest, shoes and pants followed closely behind. For modesty's sake, once his flannel pajama bottoms were on, Cloud fished an old, ratty t-shirt out of his dresser before joining the kids under the covers. Little Marlene snuggled up against his chest, his nightshirt clenched tightly in her tiny fists. The boy, Denzel, also faced Cloud as he slept, but he was content to respect the adult man's space and stay on his side of the bed.

The relief Cloud felt was mirrored in Denzel's sleeping face. No longer would the boy be plagued with the pain of Geostigma. It was a torment they were now free of. No pain, no black blood, no passing out…it was like a dream come true. Of course, Denzel had been unable to hide his joy when Cloud told him and Tifa that the days of wandering aimlessly and living in the church were over. It seemed as though Denzel's joy over being cured took a backseat to the unbridled elation he felt, knowing that his hero would be around more often. Tifa seemed to shake, her own bliss threatening to overwhelm her. And little Marlene was even happy. It made Cloud feel warm inside, but even though Marlene's happiness pleased Cloud, it was Denzel and Tifa's happiness that sent his heart soaring.

Brushing the boy's shaggy brown hair out of his face, Cloud smiled softly. Idly, he thought of another boy – _the Keyblade's Chosen One_ – he knew who made him feel the same way, idol-worship and all. Even though Denzel wasn't his, he knew what he was feeling was parental love. And it made him wonder. _Was this how fathers felt?_

The image of that Keyblade-wielding teenager – _Sora_ – Cloud had last seen seven months ago flashed suddenly in his subconscious. The tug he'd felt all those months ago whenever he was around the boy pulled at him. _Yes,_ the swordsman told himself. _This is how fathers feel._

"Everything okay?"

His brilliant blue eyes shot toward the doorway. He hadn't noticed that it had suddenly gotten very quiet downstairs, having been wrapped up in his thoughts about the kids, especially Denzel. Seeing Tifa there in the doorway was a signal that everyone was so drunk they had passed out, or like normal people, they had decided to turn in for the night. Something told him it was likely the former rather than the latter when it came to Cid and Barret.

Cloud nodded slightly, his eyes drifting back to the kids, his mind to the boy named Sora. The relaxed smile he wore faltered before completely vanishing into that look of concentration he got when he was being particularly introspective. "It's over…isn't it?" His voice sounded dubious to his own ears as well as hers.

Tifa went to the window to stare at the night sky. A lot had happened in two days. A lot had happened between _them_ in two days. "I hope so." She glanced down at her shoes as though nervous, then shifted her gaze to lock eyes with him. "You kept your promise."

He blinked sleepily. Memory kicked in and he formed an "O" with his lips. Tifa smiled sweetly as she sat on the edge of his bed, her left hand stroking Marlene's hair fondly. Cloud noticed that he was the focus of her attention even though the two children she loved as her own were there, and the way she looked at him – a look of affection reserved only for him, he knew from years of association – made his heart drunkenly skip a few beats faster. "You're always late, Cloud." Her tone wasn't scolding; rather, it was thoughtful, like she was lost within her mental library. Notes of amusement could be heard in her voice as well.

Cloud sighed as he lay back. Tifa may not have been admonishing him, but she was right; he _was_ chronically late getting to where he needed to be. But he had a chance now to change that. It was a chance he knew he couldn't pass up. "Tifa," he began after several quiet minutes in which he very nearly fell asleep.

She looked at him curiously. The smile she wore slipped only slightly, and Cloud knew her ears had detected the seriousness in his voice. He briefly entertained the notion that she had thought him dead to the world. _If I were her,_ Cloud mused, _I would think I was asleep too, given what we've been through since yesterday._

Gathering his courage, Cloud dismissed his thoughts and raised his tired eyes to meet Tifa's. "I know you hate hearing me apologize all the time…but…I'm sorry."

Tifa shook her head, smiling again. "Don't be sorry. You just need a little push, that's all."

Cloud closed his eyes, his own smile returning. "Thank you…for shoving me in the right direction." He reached up with his right hand to brush his bare fingers against her soft skin. Instinctively, Tifa closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. That familiar warmth he had always associated with Tifa flowed from his palm through his entire body. It was a life-giving, cleansing feeling, and he wanted more of it. Patience, however, was the key. Rushing headlong into something had proven to be his downfall more than once. He was not eager to rush into something without Tifa wanting it as well.

_But she wants it as much as I do…_

Without thinking he placed two fingers at the base of her skull and gently encouraged her to lean down toward his face. Their eyes were now wide open, searching for some clue behind each other's actions when their noses were just inches apart. He stopped there out of fear of rejection. Maybe he didn't want to scare her. Maybe _he_ was the one he didn't want to scare. Cloud didn't know. It was strange, foreign, beautiful, and frightening all at once.

He never got very far with those thoughts; Tifa wouldn't have it. The hand that had been stroking Marlene's hair drifted over to gently touch his face, her thumb brushing against his temple. It was all that was needed to reassure the swordsman that what he'd started was okay. Together, they closed the distance and their lips met in a soft, shy kiss. They'd always kissed before, just little good-bye pecks on the cheek or the good-night kisses Cloud would sometimes place on Tifa's forehead when he would come in late only to find her asleep on the couch, and the one he'd given her before retreating upstairs. Those kisses had spoken of the hidden affections they held for one another, but not of the _depth_ of those affections.

This first _real_ kiss was a piece of Heaven in itself. It spoke of things that could not be comprehended, only _felt._

Tifa closed her eyes blissfully. She had kissed boys before. First kisses tended to be awkward, even sloppy. This first kiss with Cloud was neither of those.

It was perfect.

Slowly, she and Cloud backed away from each other, opening their eyes only when certain that their first kiss felt right. Their eyes met almost instantly. Neither looked away for what seemed like several hours until their faces flushed pink and they broke eye contact. The happiness in their faces never faded, though. Privately, both wondered when a moment like that would grace them again.

"Will you be here in the morning?" Tifa asked softly.

Cloud, already drifting off, nodded. "Yeah. And every day afterward." He let his hand slip to caress her face once more. "I'm not going anywhere."

Tifa couldn't help but lean over the kids one more time to kiss him again. Temporarily, Cloud forgot his need to sleep and returned the kiss. This time, they were more confident, knowing now that each would respond with as much fire and hunger as the other. _It felt right._ "You can stay in here with us, if you want," he murmured sleepily when they broke apart. "There's room." Indeed, there was plenty of room on the bed for them to sleep there together with the kids in between. In fact, the kids would probably be very happy if they woke up to find Tifa there with them as well.

His offer was politely declined with soft laughter and a loving smile. "I don't think you want Yuffie announcing that to the world, do you?"

The received response was a sleepy grunt. No, he didn't want Yuffie to come up and find them curled up in his bed – or Tifa's bed – when it came time for everyone to get up in the morning. It was too early for the hell their friends – and that insufferable idiot Reno – were likely to put him through if they caught them sleeping together, even if the kids were there. Sleepily muttering incoherent prayers of thanks to whatever higher being had gifted Tifa with such foresight, Cloud allowed himself to finally give in to his body's demands for rest. He was sound asleep within seconds.

Tifa stayed with him and the kids for a while, watching them breathe slowly, deeply. She brushed Cloud's unruly blond locks out of his face, noting how peaceful he was in his slumber. Though he hardly looked the part of the battle-toughened hero when he was awake, he looked the part even less in sleep. It was something Tifa had noticed two years ago. The pain would leave the young man's face, and suddenly he was the boy she'd grown up with all over again. Sometimes, it only lasted a few minutes before they were awakened by monsters or the nightmares began their assault on Cloud's broken mind, but those few minutes of contentment always gave Tifa hope that maybe, _maybe,_ he would be okay.

And now he would be. He'd promised.

Only when she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer did Tifa reluctantly stand from the bed and leave Cloud's bedroom. Her own room was next door to his, not very far at all, yet it seemed to place her too far away from him. However, having only a wall of two-by-fours and plaster between them this time was a significant improvement over that invisible wall Cloud had kept around his heart and the miles he had often placed between them. Tifa knew she'd take the two-by-fours and plaster over Cloud's idea of a wall any day. At least the two-by-fours and plaster could be torn down with a few well-placed punches and kicks.

She bit back a yawn as she exchanged her black leather vest and sleeveless top for the shirt she had nicked from Cloud's room ages ago. No wonder Cloud was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open while everyone celebrated. Emotions had run high during this latest – and last? – fight with Sephiroth, even more so, she supposed, because his Geostigma had been cured, the kids had been in harm's way, and she herself had been hurt not just once, but twice. Thankfully, Cloud hadn't seen her face down on the street, knocked out by the blast from Bahamut's attack. Denzel's decision to tell Cloud what happened was not exactly a decision Tifa agreed with. She had wanted to talk to him about it herself, in her own time, she'd been so worried that Cloud would once again shoulder the blame for something over which he had no control. But he hadn't; he only looked to Tifa for confirmation and then talked with her about it at the bar while everyone else was having fun. Cloud had been upset that she'd been hurt, Tifa saw it in the way his shoulders slumped and in the way he stared at his plate. When he asked if she was okay, he accepted the "yes" she'd given him. He then let it go.

Whether he liked it or not, Cloud had received a frighteningly sharp kick in the gut. Painful though the truth may have been – truth is always the bitterest pill to swallow – Cloud had woken up to the reality that his family was actually _less_ safe without him than he originally thought. There was little doubt in Tifa's mind that Cloud now also realized how much his family needed him, and how much _he_ needed _them._ He was needed, wanted, and _loved._

"I don't even think I could've kicked him that hard…" Tifa murmured to herself as she tucked herself snugly beneath the blankets. A sleepy snort broke the silence. "He's right about shoving him, though."

Excitement gripped her mind just as she was about to drift off to sleep. Tifa touched her fingers to her lips as lightly as Cloud's lips had graced them. While kissing him, she had felt a happiness that knew no bounds. Now she felt a delayed sort of dizziness.

_She and Cloud had kissed._

It hadn't been one of those "he-kissed-her" or "she-kissed-him" kisses (which the second kiss clearly was), but one of those "they-kissed-each-other" kisses. Back home, in Nibelheim, she'd heard the older girls argue that there were very clear and distinct differences between the three types of kisses. Even years later, in the slums of Midgar, she heard girls repeat that same logic when they came to Tifa's old 7th Heaven location. Though she hadn't known him very well despite considering him her friend, Tifa had always wondered what it would be like to kiss Cloud Strife. She wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. Eventually, she stopped wondering and began dreaming about their first kiss.

Before he left for Midgar to join SOLDIER, Cloud did what she'd always dreamed of. He kissed her good-bye – one shy, tiny peck on the cheek. It hadn't exactly been the kiss she'd been fantasizing about, but it was good enough at the time. Other girls in town were starting to realize that Cloud Strife was a very good-looking individual. For 13-year-old Tifa Lockhart to receive a kiss from he who held the title of the best-looking boy in their village, well, it was too much for the other girls to stomach. After reuniting in Midgar following his escape from Shinra, she always kissed his cheek before he went out, saying it was to keep him safe and give him good luck. When he came in late from deliveries, he'd give her a good-night kiss when he carried her up to bed. If she didn't kiss his cheek, then he would kiss hers. They continued the practice when he started running deliveries. It became routine, and while she enjoyed these little notes of affection, the magic eventually wore off.

And tonight, all it took was one kiss, their first _real_ kiss, to make her feel like that little girl Cloud left behind in Nibelheim all over again.

It was better than she'd ever thought it could be. Perhaps that was what made her feel so giddy, she wasn't sure. Tifa only knew that things were finally working themselves out for the better. She hoped that, if Aeris had a way of getting in touch with their friends from Radiant Garden, she would let them know that things were turning out alright. There were undoubtedly a few people that would be happy to know that they were okay.

Finally, sleep began to obscure Tifa's normally crystal-clear thoughts. Her eyes were already closed, it was just a matter of time before her brain quieted enough to allow itself to shut down for the night. She could feel the room fade away into dreams formed from memories of Radiant Garden that at one time haunted her mercilessly. Dreams in which she sat on the roof of a house overlooking the ocean, watching the sunset with Cloud and a teenage boy with brown hair that stuck up in all directions like Cloud's did. Dreams in which she held the boy close, and Cloud held them both.

Dreams in which she watched a Cloud who had resigned himself to a slow, painful death from the Geostigma promise that teenage boy that they would be alright.

For the first time in seven months, she didn't wake up in tears.

In her sleep, her tiny smile expanded into a content grin.

Everything was finally alright.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Revised as of 19 January 2009

* * *

**Chapter 03**

It was bright.

Very bright.

Denzel grumbled in his sleep as he rolled over to spare his eyes – and his sleep – further damage. To disturb him was one of the greatest crimes one could commit. The ninja creeping toward the door – which had been left slightly open when Tifa went to bed the night before – rather thought that the sun hadn't gotten the memo. Too bad no one could barge into the sun's office and raise hell about it.

Behind the sleeping boy, Marlene fared better. Cloud's shoulder blocked the sunlight peeking into the room through the blinds. Given that the eight-year-old was snuggled up against the front of Cloud's shirt, she easily had it better than Denzel did. The scene was so sugary-sweet, it nearly sent one Yuffie Kisaragi into a diabetic coma on the spot. Never, in all her eighteen years, had she seen something so unbelievably cute. "Cloud Strife" and "cute" simply did not belong in the same sentence.

Apparently, Yuffie had been wrong about Cloud for two years. She didn't like being wrong. However, she would forgive Cloud this time just because she was a sucker for cute things.

Her rumbling stomach reminded her of more urgent matters. Yuffie hated to wake them up, but if Tifa wanted her kitchen to remain intact and relatively unscathed, someone would have to wake them all up. However, she was largely disappointed when she didn't see Tifa sleeping in Cloud's room with said swordsman and the kids. It didn't make sense, at least, it didn't make sense to Yuffie. The man just saved the world from Sephiroth, _again_, he seemed to have gotten over himself, and he had actually held Tifa's hand while the kids afflicted with Geostigma played in the water.

And after all that, they weren't cuddled up with the kids.

"Either Cloud's hopeless, or they both are," the ninja muttered to herself in exasperation.

Of course, Yuffie didn't know that Cloud had invited Tifa to stay with him and the kids, or that Tifa had declined the invitation with a reminder that Yuffie would probably tell the world if she saw them early in the morning. She merely assumed that Tifa would have joined him and the kids once she was ready for bed. Mentally, she cursed whoever it was who originally said, "Never assume; it makes an ass out of you and me," for the millionth time.

She would press on, though. It would not do for the World's Greatest Ninja to simply give up in her quest to wake her two favorite lovebirds just to see them flirt some more. The PDA she'd witnessed the night before just wasn't enough. If anything, Yuffie hadn't gotten her "fluff fix" yet. Like the rumbling in her stomach, the lack of warm and fuzzy fluff was something that needed to be remedied.

Just as she was about to set foot in the room, she noticed one bright blue eye staring at her from behind sleep-tousled blond bangs. Yuffie very nearly screamed in shock, as she had not been expecting that eye to be open. She somehow managed to keep her head on straight once it had sunk in that Cloud was a light sleeper even if he was dead tired. This latest development only served to derail her plans. Tifa would not be roused from her slumber as long as Cloud was awake. It was a situation that Yuffie naturally deemed unacceptable.

"Go back to sleep," she hissed.

Cloud shook his head.

Yuffie was getting desperate. "C'mon, Cloud, please?"

Again, Cloud shook his head. He was starting to give her that icy glare of his that could freeze hell over with one glance. His rest had been disturbed by the ninja's less-than-stealthy approach. That was one thing. Waking Tifa and the kids was something else entirely. He wasn't about to allow Yuffie to rouse Tifa and the kids. Yuffie knew she would have to give up this time, knowing there would be hell to pay if she persisted. Groaning at the thought of missing out on one of Tifa's delicious breakfasts, the ninja turned away from the door. It wasn't exactly a total loss, as Shera could cook. It just felt like the end of the world.

"Fine, I'll go bug Shera."

Finally, Cloud nodded his approval. Though Shera's cooking could never compare to Tifa's – in Cloud's most humble opinion, of course – she was in fact an excellent cook. The swordsman rather thought was time Yuffie paid the woman some respect.

Once satisfied that Avalanche's youngest member was downstairs trying to wake Shera without waking Cid, Cloud gazed at the two children sleeping peacefully beside him. As he had done the night before, he marveled over the kids, noting how still the pair was. This wasn't normal for Marlene, who usually tended to be a violent little sleeper. Her covers were always a mess in the morning when she woke up. On those rare occasions when Cloud would come home, he usually came in hours after the kids would have gone to bed. One of the first things he would do after assuring Tifa that all was well was check on the kids, and then the two of them would carefully straighten Marlene's covers without waking her.

For some reason, she always became so still when she came into his room or Tifa's room to sleep with them. It was something both adults had found interesting. Tifa often wondered if this was due to the trauma she'd experienced in her short life. Cloud thought it was because the kids' room was drafty, as it was slightly cooler in the winter and much warmer in the summer than the rest of the house and bar. He'd been thoroughly stumped when, after calking the window and taking care of the other drafty places, Marlene's violent sleeping behaviors persisted. He recalled Tifa being rather amused, even as she suggested that maybe it was a subconscious habit that had nothing to do with either of their theories. Some people just tossed and turned, the young woman claimed.

Cloud thought she was just having a good laugh at his expense.

Denzel was the exact opposite. The boy _never_ moved in his sleep. The only way one could tell he was alive was to watch his chest rise and fall with his breathing. That had Cloud remembered a time when Tifa called him not long after he left. Denzel had just contracted the stigma – Cloud hadn't been afflicted with the disease yet – and he'd begun sleeping more than what was normal for a boy his age. Denzel's early symptoms were alarming. Before Cloud left, the boy had stopped breathing twice. When Tifa called, Denzel had stopped breathing again, and Tifa couldn't get him breathing.

Though he was already a half-day's journey away, Cloud turned around to rush back home. They couldn't take Denzel to the hospital; doctors were turning the infected away due to a lack of space and the incurable nature of the disease. Anyone suffering from the illness, as well as those caring for the afflicted were on their own. Without the technology the hospitals had, the possibility that Denzel would die in their care was very great.

Tifa managed to get Denzel breathing while she and Cloud were still on the phone.

Following that incident, it always threw them into a panic whenever Denzel wouldn't wake up immediately even after those early scares ceased completely.

Then Cloud himself came down with the illness and all but disappeared from their lives. It was something that always served to fill the swordsman with guilt. He still felt horrible for having left Tifa to care for the kids on her own, for having abandoned his family. But he was with them now. He wasn't going anywhere. Things were going to change, Cloud would see to it.

Marlene stirred, rousing him from his thoughts. He closed his eyes, pretending to sleep, as the little girl sat up. Denzel's incoherent grumblings reached his ears, but Cloud wasn't sure if the boy was waking up or snuggling further under the covers. Denzel was hard to read sometimes. Before the stigma forced them to withdraw Denzel from traditional classes and home-school him, the boy had always been difficult to wake up in the morning for school. He'd wake up enough to assure Tifa he was getting up, but he would always slip back to sleep. Marlene would grumble about having to get up, but she would get ready and trudge downstairs for breakfast. Cloud had never known Marlene to sleep any later than ten o'clock in the morning unless she was sick with the flu.

But Marlene wasn't sick. In fact, she usually woke up around eight o'clock every morning. And despite all she'd been through and all the sleep she'd lost, her internal alarm clock was ringing. Even then, the little girl's sleep-fogged mind allowed for little more than thoughts of how sleepy she still was. A good night's rest didn't seem to have been enough, and she wondered if she would feel more awake after eating breakfast. Glancing blearily at Denzel, then at Cloud, she wondered how people could sleep so much when the sun was out.

Cloud.

Marlene's brown eyes snapped wide open for an instant. "I wasn't dreaming," she murmured sleepily, watching Cloud lay there only half-covered by the blankets. She poked his arm as though she were still unsure he was really there.

Her finger met the solid muscle and skin on Cloud's arm.

Cloud reached up and grabbed the little girl into a hug. Marlene squealed before dissolving into giggles as Cloud held on tight so she wouldn't accidentally kick Denzel. "Cloud!"

Footsteps in the hallway, originating from Tifa's room, stopped outside the door. Cloud wasn't laughing, but when he spoke, one could hear the laughter in his voice. "Come in, Tifa."

At his invitation, Tifa stepped into the room. Her hair was mussed, her eyes were still droopy, and she wore the most beautiful smile Cloud had ever seen. The last time he had seen that smile had been in Radiant Garden when they watched the sunset with Sora. By that same token, Tifa hadn't seen Cloud so relaxed, even _happy_, since that day as well. Given how relaxed he was now acting with Marlene, Tifa took that as a definite sign of things to come. Cloud and Marlene had always been rather tense around one another. The relationship the swordsman shared with Denzel was different, more like that of a father and his son.

The martial artist's gaze traveled to the boy in question. "I'm amazed Denzel hasn't woken up," she said as Marlene stilled despite her continued giggles. Sure enough, Denzel was still asleep. Tifa shifted her ruby-colored eyes to meet Cloud's. "He reminds me of his father."

Cloud's cheeks suddenly became tinged with pink. Still, he did not break eye contact with the woman standing in the doorway.

Sitting between them, Marlene looked back and forth from Cloud to Tifa. She felt so utterly confused; the adults in her life – except Yuffie, of course, but Yuffie didn't really count – didn't act like this. Cloud never blushed. _Never._ And whatever Tifa was doing, it was something she had never done before, at least not in front of Marlene.

Tifa chuckled as she stepped further into the room. Something was funny, maybe it was Cloud blushing that was making her laugh. Marlene wasn't sure. "Why don't you go see if Shera needs help, Marlene?" the young woman asked after kissing Marlene on the forehead.

"Okay," Marlene hugged Tifa tightly, her own way of saying "good morning" to her surrogate mother. Hugging Cloud "good morning" as well, she crawled off the bed and bounded out of the room.

Once Marlene's footsteps disappeared into the din coming from downstairs, Tifa sniffed the air. "Shera _is_ making breakfast, isn't she?" If one were to judge the tone of her voice, Tifa was feeling a mixture of hope and dread; she desperately hoped that Shera _was_ cooking, while at the same time she dreaded the possibility that Shera was _not_ cooking. 7th Heaven's business depended on the work done in the kitchen in addition to alcohol sales. Tifa couldn't stay afloat without one or the other.

Cloud nodded, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he lay back on the mattress. "Yuffie decided it would be better to wake Shera."

Tifa glanced at him knowingly. "And I bet you had something to do with that, didn't you?"

The self-satisfied smirk remained in place. "Maybe I did, because I wanted you and the kids to rest." Cloud grasped Tifa's hand as she sat in Marlene's place on the bed. He noticed that Tifa was ever so careful so as not to wake Denzel, even gently pushing the boy a few inches away so there would be more room. However, Cloud knew that if they didn't wake the boy soon, Denzel would sleep the day away.

"You should go back to sleep as well, now that I'm awake," Tifa whispered softly as Cloud sat up and gently guided her head down so that it rested on his shoulder. This argument was pointless, however, because Cloud could be pretty rigid when he wanted to be. Tifa had lost count of all the times Cloud refused to go to sleep until she herself had gone to bed. He hated it when others worried about him, yet was touched knowing that others cared enough to worry. His phone – which would need to be replaced, he'd told her the night before – had been proof of that concept.

His silence told her that he was being stubborn again. Reaching around her with his right arm, Cloud gently shook Denzel. "Denz, come on. Time to get up."

Denzel pulled the covers up over his face, mumbling incoherently. Tifa couldn't help but chuckle bemusedly while her childhood friend made a face of half-hearted displeasure. Not one to be thwarted so easily, Cloud tried again. This time, his efforts were met with success. Denzel got up and staggered to the stairs to go get some food. If anything, he would pass out again curled up next to Red XIII or Barret provided Yuffie's antics didn't wake him up. Cloud and Tifa, meanwhile, remained in the swordsman's room, enjoying each other's company as they dozed against one another.

Young Denzel was blissfully unaware that his guardians weren't following him downstairs. He was only conscious enough to make it down the stairs without tripping over his own feet.

Marlene, sitting in a booth with Barret and Cid, had a hunch something was up when Denzel came downstairs alone. "Where's Cloud and Tifa?" she asked over a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

The boy yawned. "They were talking when they woke me up." In the middle of a second yawn, he walked into the edge of the doorway. "Ow," he hissed, bringing a hand up to massage the pain away. Where Denzel hadn't been awake before, he was now very much the exact opposite.

Shera glanced over from the stove in mild alarm. "Are you alright, Denzel?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

Yuffie, who had previously been trying to annoy Cid – she was failing quite miserably, as the pilot was half-asleep – perked up when she heard Denzel say that Cloud and Tifa had been talking. "You're sure they're just talking?"

Denzel was starting to get grumpy. "Yes I'm sure." The tone he used implied a bad day for all who interrogated him while he was still waking up. Yuffie proceeded to leave him alone. She didn't want to risk some of her own tricks being thrown her way by a vengeful preteen. There was no greater dishonor than being humiliated by one's own students, even if one of them had only been her student for less than twenty-four hours.

Vincent, largely silent following his little lecture on the _Shera,_ eyed the 18-year-old Wutain girl sternly. "It's best to leave Cloud and Tifa alone and not interfere with whatever lies in store for them." As was his wont, Vincent spoke in that calm, firm, and fiercely commanding manner that never failed to send chills up and down one's spine. With the exception of Nanaki and the kids, everyone fought to suppress shudders.

Yuffie glared at the cloaked man. She rubbed her arms vigorously, suddenly chilled by Vincent's scrutiny. "That's what Aeris said in Radiant Garden after Sora and his friends went home."

"An' you didn't listen." Cid growled, ignoring the curious quirk of Vincent's eyebrows and drawing attention to himself. Vincent was the only one who hadn't known of the journey to Radiant Garden, but he wasn't the only one who didn't know exactly what happened there. Yuffie had been surprisingly silent about it, and Cid had refused to talk about it with Shera. Cloud hadn't been around for anyone to talk to, and Tifa wasn't one to discuss the things she'd seen and done with the swordsman out of respect for his need for privacy. But Cid wasn't going to explain the events in Radiant Garden; he felt it wasn't his place to talk about a good lot of it. However, he did feel it was well within his rights to yell at the hyperactive ninja for her behavior. "No wonder Spike never answers his phone. I wouldn't either if it was you callin' ev'ry time the damn thing rang."

No one bothered to tell Cid to watch his tongue in front of the kids. They had learned early on that there were two things the pilot would never give up: smokes and swearing. Shera said it best once, while the group was flying around on the _Highwind_; if Cid were forced to stop cursing, he'd never speak again.

Yuffie seemed to puff up as her temper threatened to get the better of her. She told herself it was a happy time. The world was safe again. They were all alive and relatively unscathed. Cloud and Tifa were finally headed in the right direction together. Cid had a hangover and he was sleepy. He was naturally going to be cranky. There was no reason for tempers to flare as they did yesterday.

Still, the truth hurt.

"Yuffie?"

The teen looked at Marlene, who was holding out a bandana Yuffie had given her the last time they'd seen one another, a few months before Denzel appeared on the scene. "Wanna play hide-and-seek with me and Denzel?"

Yuffie grinned, her anger and hurt instantly forgotten. Those kids were something else, always able to bring smiles to the adults' faces even when things weren't so pleasant. _'Thanks, Marlene.'_ Taking the bandana, she listened intently as Marlene laid down the law. No ninja stuff; it wasn't fair to hide in places that the kids couldn't get to themselves.

With the resident ninja suitably occupied, Cid seemed to have forgotten his own malcontent. The pilot moved over a little as Denzel joined him on the bench in the booth he shared with Barret and Marlene, located along the back wall in the corner. He hugged the boy awkwardly before checking on the bump he'd gotten when he walked into the doorframe. Denzel hissed and jerked away as Cid prodded around his forehead and hairline. A fine bruise was coloring up just below where the lad's hairline began. "Smacked yourself pretty good, kid."

Barret also peered over at Denzel's injury. Upon seeing her friend's discolored skin, Marlene squeaked and ran to get some ice as fast as her little legs could carry her, completely forgetting about the game she'd been about to play. She remembered Tifa's claim that ice was good for bruises, because it kept them from swelling up. She called for Yuffie to come help her; Shera was busy at the stove, and Marlene herself was still too short to reach the ice moulds.

As she hurried back to give Denzel his icepack, Cloud and Tifa, both clad in their pajamas, came into the bar. To the rest of Avalanche and the two kids, the pair looked happier, and far less tired than they'd looked the night before even if the last vestiges of sleep still showed in their eyes. While Tifa reassured Marlene that Denzel would be okay, Cloud hoisted Denzel up so he was carrying the boy piggy-back. Everyone determined it was a nice, and most welcomed change from the way things had been previously. They finally _looked_ like a family.

From his seat in the booth, Cid smirked up at Avalanche's de facto leader. "So you're gonna do what you're s'posed t' do, Spike?" For all intents and purposes, Cid was referring to the fact that Cloud needed to move past his grief and guilt over what happened to Zack and Aeris. But within the pilot's seemingly straight-forward question was a hidden query. It pertained to something only the pilot, Yuffie, Cloud and Tifa knew of.

_The promise he'd made in Radiant Garden._

Cloud hunched over slightly so Tifa could tenderly press the ice against Denzel's forehead. He did not answer straight away, and his friends began to wonder if the man was contemplating the pros and cons of giving up his nomadic life in exchange for something far more stable and less dangerous. Tension built in the room, so thick and palpable, it could have been cut with the proverbial knife. Even Vincent seemed uncomfortable.

The ones who knew better – Tifa and the kids – rather thought Cloud just wanted to see everyone squirm.

Just when the more excitable members of their group were getting ready to beat and answer out of him, Cloud repositioned himself so that he could have put an arm around Tifa if he weren't busy holding Denzel up. He gestured only slightly with his head to the boy on his back and the young woman beside him. "I'm home."

Barret snorted in disbelief. "Prove it, Spikey. Once I know you ain't gonna keep breakin' Tifa's heart, I'll believe it."

"Nah," Yuffie chimed in with a grin worthy of any Cheshire cat. "I think he's thinking straight for once." Her statement earned her a sharp glare from the man in question. She was safe enough from the swordsman's ire; Cloud was otherwise indisposed and thus unable to do anything about it.

Tifa broke up the potential confrontation by not-so-subtly nudging Cloud in the direction of his usual place at the bar. "Let's play nice, children," she said dryly as she turned away from the booths. With her back turned, she was able to smile amusedly while Yuffie sputtered indignantly. Barret and Cid expressed their own indignation with a few choice curses, but they fell silent rather quickly. Not for the first time, Tifa wondered if their tendency to be less annoying when she put her foot down was because they didn't have the heart to upset her, or because they didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of her – supposedly _gentler_ -- -punches. It had to be one or the other, not both.

She left Cloud and Denzel at the barstools to duck into the kitchen so as to help Shera if the other woman needed anything. Despite the fact that it was _her_ kitchen, Tifa was promptly shooed away. With nothing to do, the martial artist went to sit with Cloud and Denzel at the bar. It felt so nice to just _sit_ and enjoy what was going on around her. Playing referee wasn't even as bad when she didn't have several other things to worry about at the same time.

A soft hand, long protected by gloves from the usual wear and tear of using a sword, fell over hers. Tifa sighed contentedly, leaning into Cloud when he inched their stools closer together. "Something tells me you're thinking."

She felt Cloud glance over his shoulder at Denzel before whispering lowly in her ear. "The other me, the one that died…I think he relaxed and was unprepared when the Heartless came."

"Because you think he never met…?" Tifa frowned slightly when Cloud nodded. "What do you think this means?"

Cloud sighed heavily, a sign that he was unsure. "I'll see what Aeris and Zack have to say."

Tifa elbowed him lightly. "No more running."

"I'm not running." The swordsman smiled his thanks to Shera when she brought three plates of food to the bar. Reluctantly, he removed his arm from around Tifa's waist so that he could eat like a civilized human being. Keeping his voice low so Denzel wouldn't hear, Cloud offered an explanation for wanting to talk to their deceased friends. "We didn't see Zack, but I _know_ he lives in Radiant Garden with Aeris. Perhaps the other me lives there too."

"They won't tell you when the Heartless will get here, Cloud," Tifa reminded him quietly after swallowing a mouthful of pancakes.

"I know." Cloud paused to take a bite from the sandwich he'd made out of his toast and eggs. "They'll give me an idea of what to expect."

Tifa snorted. "I thought Leon gave you a rough estimate before we left."

"It was very rough." Cloud set his eggs-and-toast sandwich down momentarily in favor of sipping thoughtfully at the orange juice Shera just set before him. "Thanks, Shera," he said quickly. His sentiments were echoed by Denzel and Tifa, the latter adding that the older woman really didn't have to go to all the trouble to feed them too. Shera, on the other hand, only smiled and waved Tifa's protests off. This time, Cloud was the one to snort; the expression on Tifa's face, a mixture of indignation and resignation, was priceless.

Once Shera had left the kitchen with her own plate of food and had gone to sit with Cid, Cloud and Tifa resumed their previous discussion. "We can't slack off," the swordsman murmured.

His best friend and crush nodded grimly, mouth set in a line. "No, we can't." She leaned over to peer around Cloud's front at Denzel. "Something tells me Sora lost more than his father." Seeing Cloud's eyes widen slightly, she motioned with her chin at the boy seated on Cloud's other side. Tifa watched as Cloud rolled his eyes toward Denzel, then narrow them dangerously when understanding dawned on him. "We have to keep you both alive."

Cloud nodded slowly. "We'll figure out what to do, but not right now."

"Let's just enjoy the day," Tifa agreed quietly. Her beautifully bright smile returned and she leaned toward Cloud to kiss his cheek. "It's good to have you home."

"It's good to be back," the swordsman agreed, a soft smile playing about his lips. "I'll take the week off. We'll spend it together, with the kids."

Denzel looked over excitedly. "Really? You mean it?"

Cloud reached out to ruffle the boy's hair, turning around so he could pull Marlene into his lap when the little girl raced over to happily attach herself to Cloud's leg. "Really. I mean it." Looking over his shoulder at Barret while the kids exchanged excited grins and high-fives, Cloud smirked. "Hope you don't mind if I kidnap Marlene, Barret."

The oilman waved him off. "Go on ahead. As long as Marlene don' mind, 's fine wit' me."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** Revised as of 22 January 2009. Set before the side-story, "Twas the Night Before Christmas."

* * *

**Chapter 04**

Something was…_different._

It wasn't different in the sense that whatever was different was _bad_, that wasn't the case at all. It was just – for lack of a better explanation – _weird_. And as if that weren't strange enough, this weird difference was weird in a _good_ way. There just wasn't a way to describe the situation with greater clarity. Though this was especially true of the two children pondering this turn of events, it was also often true of adults who found themselves at a complete and utter loss for words. Adults tended to complicate things too much as it was.

Five months had passed without incident since Reunion. The initial excitement had worn off only a couple months previous, and the people of Edge, including its children, were once again leading normal lives. Adults went to work, the children went to school. At the end of the day, they all went home to good food and each other. It felt nice. Things were the way they were supposed to be.

But the hum-drum monophonic tune of normalcy wasn't what occupied the minds of the two children who called 7th Heaven home. Had Denzel not lost his parents when Shinra dropped the plate on Sector 7 in Midgar, he might have continued to enjoy that dull lifestyle. Marlene had been too young to remember her parents; for so long, she'd only known Barret, then Tifa, and finally, Cloud, and the lifestyle that her adoptive father and surrogate parents led, as well as the sadness it brought them. And until five months ago, only one of those surrogate parents had been tangible. The other had been, at best, an undead, ghostly shell whose presence – or lack thereof – was marked by but a handful of memories and a young woman's sad ruby eyes.

That had been their life before between the events of Meteor and Reunion.

Immediately following Reunion, that depressing existence had been changed, the routine disrupted.

Denzel now walked to school with Marlene every morning. Every afternoon, they would walk home together. But the sad ruby eyes that greeted them upon their return now sparkled happily, and their owner's voice positively sang rapturously as the children eagerly inquired about their other guardian, where he was, and when he would be coming home. Though the answer varied by the day, it satisfied the children enough to silence them for the time being, and they would happily race up the stairs to their rooms, where they would change out of their school clothes and start on their homework.

Their other guardian, the man who had been the undead, ghostly shell five months ago, would walk in through the door leading to the garage while they were in the middle of supper. His arrival often coincided with the time the evening regulars – the lawyers, the corporate businessmen, other white-collar office-types – filtered in through the bar's front entrance for their evening drinks. He never walked out into the bar, venturing into the kitchen only briefly to greet his housemate and their two young charges before disappearing upstairs to shower and thus cleanse himself of the disgusting things he'd gotten covered with in the course of his day. Following his shower – which, depending on how filthy he'd gotten, took between twenty minutes and an hour – he would walk into the kitchen and help himself to whatever had been prepared for their evening meal.

During a lull in the bar's action, which always occurred around eight o'clock every evening, the little family would sit around the kitchen table, each member sharing his or her experiences from that day. Denzel and Marlene talked about things that were normal for children to talk about. Mrs. Filmore was a bad gym teacher because she took all the fun out of kickball, and Mr. Foster was the best music teacher in the world. The principal finally suspended his own son after Joachim kicked Patrick after the former's friends shoved him, and Trisha stopped being friends with Lacy because Samner gave Lacy flowers at lunch. Denzel liked to complain about Mrs. Trammel, the teacher in charge of his third-grade class, while Marlene sang Miss Harris' praises, claiming there had never existed a first-grade teacher as wonderful as her.

Cloud's accounts always included the towns and cities he visited, the people he met, and the monsters he'd slain while out on deliveries. His tales inspired awe in the children, who only got to see him in the evenings during the week; Cloud awoke no later than four o'clock in the morning, at least three hours before the children got up. His housemate was interested in knowing how his day went, but he knew that she wasn't particularly concerned with the different towns and monsters. Cloud wasn't offended, though, for he understood why she wasn't as awestruck as the children. She'd been to those towns, fought those kinds of monsters, and had even met some of the people before. When she asked questions, she only inquired about the changes in each of the towns they'd been to together, and the health of some of the people she knew that he'd met with.

In comparison to the tales told by Cloud and the children, Tifa's description of her day was incomprehensibly boring. In fact, she only told her family that she slept well, because she wasn't awake during the day. She would wake with Cloud when his alarm went off, even if she had only been asleep for three or four hours. As such, she was the only member of the household who saw the quiet man in the morning. They cooked and ate breakfast together, and just before Cloud left, they always shared a quick kiss. Following his departure, she would return to the soothing warmth of her bed for another couple hours until it was time to wake Denzel and Marlene at seven. The kids would always leave for school around eight-thirty, and after checking the doors and windows, Tifa would retreat to her room one last time to nestle under the covers until one o'clock in the afternoon. The children came home from school at three-thirty, giving Tifa two-and-a-half hours to herself to wake up and get ready for the night ahead without having to worry about anyone else. Rinse, repeat.

There were days where Cloud got to sleep in and Tifa got the night off. Cloud took weekends off, provided he didn't have an important delivery that carried him away from home for more than a day, and Tifa would close the bar. Then there were parent-teacher conference days. Parent-teacher conferences were _always_ held on Thursday evenings and during regular school hours on Fridays, and there were always two parent-teacher conferences per academic semester. 7th Heaven would close at one o'clock in the morning on Thursday and not reopen until five o'clock Monday evening. Cloud took Friday off.

And now, in the middle of December, the routine had been disrupted even further. Cloud was staying home for the winter, rather than run deliveries. Tifa had been the one to suggest it; his clients, evidently, shared the fighter-turned-barmaid's sentiments, and told him to stay home, rather than risk his health and life just to ensure their packages reached their destinations. Though he would not be making any money until March, Cloud had assured his family that he was in good shape financially. He was more a miser than a spendthrift, something he proved to Tifa when he received his bank statement in the mail at the beginning of the month. Four months without income wouldn't hurt his wallet in the least.

But it was still so strange!

Denzel laid his pencil down with a frustrated groan. He understood that things were different in a good way because Cloud was home, and he was happy about that. What he didn't understand were the changes in Cloud and Tifa _together_. He just couldn't put his finger on it. Obviously, Tifa was happier, and at first, Denzel thought it was because she had proof on a mostly-daily basis that her best friend was okay. Cloud also seemed to feel better. Like the young woman they all lived with, he had also changed. He was happier, he smiled more, and he even laughed with them. As the months progressed, though, Denzel noticed that Tifa was happy for a different reason, as was Cloud. He also noticed that in spite of the familiarity shared by the two adults, there existed a sense of awkward shyness.

The last time Denzel checked, best friends didn't _kiss_ each other on the lips like in the movies.

If there was one thing Denzel _did_ know, it was that a boy didn't kiss a girl unless it was on a dare or unless he really, _really_ liked her. And Cloud wasn't taking any dares, so he _had_ to like Tifa. Even though this romance was unfurling right in front him, Denzel still had a hard time imagining Cloud and Tifa in love the way the grown-ups in the movies and the teenagers he saw around town looked. Cloud may have only been home for five months, but the way he just fit into their lives and filled the void created by his absence, it was as though he'd never been away from them. He and Tifa just seemed so…_natural._

"Denzel! Marlene! Bedtime in an hour!"

The boy groaned again as his eyes drifted to the digital clock on his nightstand. Upon seeing that he truly only had an hour left until he had to be in bed, he scowled darkly and trudged to the bathroom to clean up and brush his teeth. Cloud the Bedtime-Nazi, he told himself for the umpteenth time, was definitely not as cool as Cloud the Monster-Slayer. Bedtime-Nazi Cloud had enforced the nine o'clock bedtime while school was in session, which Denzel understood. What he didn't understand was Bedtime-Nazi Cloud's continued enforcement of the bedtime rule during winter holiday. It wasn't fair.

Marlene was waiting in the hallway when he exited the bathroom. "Hey, Marlene?"

The girl stopped just as she was about to shut the door. "Yeah?"

Denzel shifted his weight uncomfortably. This whole thing with Cloud and Tifa was starting to make _him_ feel weird. He wasn't even sure if he should even bother _asking _about his guardians' behavior, because Marlene knew both adults better than he did, and maybe Cloud and Tifa had acted like this in the past. But what if they hadn't? Wouldn't Marlene also think it was weird? With only one way to find out, Denzel breathed shakily, and mustered his courage. "D'you think Cloud and Tifa are acting strange?"

_That_ certainly got Marlene's attention. She blinked, brow furrowed in concentration. Meeting Denzel's curious gaze, she said, "Let me brush my teeth, okay?"

Satisfied without being completely satisfied with her response for the time being, Denzel nodded. "I'll be in my room."

After what seemed like an eternity had passed, Marlene _finally_ finished in the bathroom and joined Denzel in his room. Though the children got along beautifully, their guardians decided they needed separate rooms. Denzel was given one of the two spare rooms, conveniently located directly across the hall from the bathroom. It had taken some getting used to, but both children were happy with the increase in personal space.

And the best part of having the room directly across the hall from the bathroom was that Denzel could watch for the person he wanted to talk to. There was no way to escape the boy's keen eyes unless he was asleep.

Marlene sat at the foot of Denzel's bed while he sat with his back against the headboard. "Why do you think they're acting strange?"

Denzel shook his head. "I'm not sure. They're best friends, right? Best friends don't _kiss_."

The reaction his statement inspired was not quite what Denzel had been expecting. In fact, he found it rather frustrating that Marlene would _laugh_ at him for not knowing something that apparently was extremely obvious to the girl. "What?" he asked sourly.

"They're in love with each other, silly!" Marlene continued to giggle, irking Denzel further. "Cloud and Tifa have always been special to each other. They're just stubborn." Her laughter subsided when she noticed how put-out and confused her best friend looked. "They don't like being...oh, how did Tifa explain it? Open! They don't like being open with their feelings."

"But they're open about it now, aren't they?" Denzel asked, and became even more confused when Marlene shook her head.

"Nuh-uh. We can see that they're happy and in love because we live with them. Daddy and Cid and all the others can see it because they know Tifa so well and because Tifa's sort of like an open book." Marlene grinned brightly. "Cloud's a lot better at hiding his feelings, because everyone else except Vincent and Nanaki doesn't know they have to look him in the eye. Other people, like the ones that come to the bar, can't tell that Cloud and Tifa are together, because they don't know them like us and Daddy."

Armed with this new information, Denzel crossed his arms over his chest as he began to consider what Marlene had told him. It made sense now, as he also thought about what he'd seen with his own eyes. His guardians didn't necessarily say what they needed to tell each other with _words_ unless the situation necessitated verbal communication. They used gestures and other forms of body language instead. Their _actions_ spoke for them most of the time. There was a saying Tifa sometimes used whenever Denzel got into a fight, one she started using not long after Cloud came home to stay. _Actions speak louder than words, but the pen is still mightier than the sword._ Did Tifa speak from her personal experiences in her relationship with Cloud? She had to be, for it to make sense the way it did. Tifa never said anything unless she knew it to be true.

He then began thinking about Marlene's claim that the regulars to the bar couldn't tell that Tifa was taken. That also made sense. Some of the more amorous types kept trying to ask the young woman out, even then she turned them down. Denzel knew Cloud was annoyed by it, but Cloud wasn't one to just stake his claim like other men. Cloud wasn't overly possessive. He knew that Tifa could take care of herself and would actually object to his stepping in when the situation didn't call for it. They were a team, Cloud explained softly, yet firmly, when the children asked him why he didn't chase the suitors off, and part of being in a team meant trusting one another. Cloud trusted Tifa, and if he stepped in, he would be telling her that he didn't trust her.

Denzel sighed. "Okay, I think I get it. They're taking their time."

Marlene nodded enthusiastically. "Yep!"

"So do you think Cloud will ask Tifa to marry him?"

"When I do, it will be when the time is right."

The children jumped at the sound of Cloud's soft tenor voice. Sheepishly, they looked up to see not only Cloud, but also Tifa, standing in the doorway. Tinges of pink colored the adults' faces, but they didn't seem too flustered otherwise. Embarrassed at having been caught discussing their guardians' love lives, the children blushed bright red. It was awkward, more so for the children than for Cloud and Tifa.

Cloud walked into the room and sat on Denzel's bed between the two children. Tifa sat next to him, encouraging Marlene to come sit on her lap while Denzel all but plastered himself to Cloud's other side. The swordsman looked between the two youngsters. His expression was firm, but his eyes were full of affection and amusement. "It's okay if you have questions. If you're not sure of what's going on, I want to you ask me, or Tifa, or both of us. To the people who don't know us, we're not a normal family, but what matters is that _we_ know we're a family. Okay?"

The children nodded, understanding what Cloud was telling them, and understanding that it was important to Cloud that he explain this to them. Even with his family, with whom he was most open, Cloud still wasn't one for much verbal communication. Every question he asked, and every answer he gave, was short and to the point. He rarely let on that something mattered greatly to him, and when he did, it was always best to do as he said or asked.

The swordsman offered his young charges a small smile, something that was slowly becoming more frequent around the house. He then looked at Tifa, his own way of asking if she had anything to add to what he'd already told the children. She smiled softly and shook her head. _No,_ she was saying. _You said everything that needed to be said_.

It never ceased to amaze the children how their guardians could say so much with very few words, or even no words at all. But perhaps that was the magic of their relationship. They knew each other so well that they knew what the other was truly saying with all the physical gestures and signs, almost like they were reading each other's minds. It was neat, it was weird, and it was romantic, all at the same time. There was suddenly no question at all that these two were _meant_ for one another. Cloud was right; he would ask Tifa to marry him when the time was right, and they would then take it from there. There was no need to rush. As long as he and Tifa still loved each other, they would go at their own pace.

Denzel realized he was okay with that. Even if the early bird always caught the worm, good things still came to those who waited patiently for them.

But another nagging question that had been bothering him chose to rear its ugly head. It was one he didn't want to ask, as he feared one of the possible answers Cloud and Tifa might give him. It was also a question he _needed_ to ask, because he _needed_ to know. "What'll happen to me when you do get married?"

His question appeared to have caught Cloud and Tifa by surprise. Even Marlene seemed horrified that he would ask something like that. Before the boy could begin to regret asking, Tifa came to the rescue. "What makes you ask, Denzel?" Her voice was gentle, and Denzel ducked his head. He seemed to think he'd hurt them all with his innocent question. But Tifa and Cloud weren't hurt by it. Instead, they were actually glad he asked; it meant he was concerned about his place in their lives. He wanted to make sure he wasn't going to be thrown away. Denzel didn't know that, though, and Tifa wanted him to know the truth. "Cloud and I were wondering when you were going to ask if you were going to stay or be sent to another home." She smiled reassuringly when the boy finally looked up to meet her eyes in wonderment. "As long as you want to stay with us, Denzel, we want you to stay."

"As…" Denzel trailed off nervously, hopefully. "As your adopted son?"

Cloud patted his back before bringing his hand up to rest easily on Denzel's shoulder. "That's what we were thinking. You're part of the family, aren't you?" When the boy nodded slowly, Cloud squeezed his shoulder a little and pulled him into a one-armed hug. "Then you're staying." He chuckled lightly when Denzel all but tackled him in a tight, delighted hug. This time, he brought both arms around the boy to fully enclose him in an affectionate hug. Without having to say anything at all, Cloud was able to convey what he felt with greater accuracy than he would have been able to with words.

Denzel felt Marlene attempt to hug both him and Cloud, and then he felt the soothing, motherly comfort of Tifa's arms as she too joined in the family group hug.

"Something tells me you two won't be falling asleep any time soon," Tifa observed, the laughter in her voice sending the children into a fit of giggles.

Her boyfriend grunted, the noise sounding more like a laugh than an actual grunt. "I suppose they can stay up an extra hour." He looked down at the two children clinging to his front. "You're still getting up at eight to help decorate the tree."

"We'll wake up." Denzel asserted confidently.

"I'm holding you to that, young man," Tifa warned. "Okay, let's go downstairs, but you have to stay in the living room, alright?"

When two little heads nodded enthusiastically, the adults stood up, Cloud carrying Denzel piggy-back. Tifa, meanwhile, carried Marlene against her hip, the little girl's arms wrapped loosely around the martial artist's neck.

Resting his chin on Cloud's shoulder, and leaning his head over just a little so it rested against Cloud's, Denzel sighed contentedly. They weren't a normal family to outsiders, as Cloud said, but they _were_ a family. Tifa technically owned the bar, therefore the house. Cloud, her childhood friend and crush, was her live-in boyfriend with loads of baggage. Marlene was their best friend's adopted daughter who lived with them because her father couldn't take care of her just yet. And Denzel was an orphan Cloud rescued and brought home with him because he couldn't bear to abandon an innocent child to starvation and death. They were all broken in some way or another, but they had each other. And they were family.

"Something on your mind, Denz?"

Denzel smiled sleepily. "Yeah. I think we're lucky."

Tifa cast a gentle smile back at Denzel while Cloud snorted bemusedly. _We are lucky_, they were telling him in that nonverbal language they always used with each other. Their responses caused Denzel's grin to broaden. He was so high in the clouds that he failed to notice when Cloud set him down on the couch with Marlene before following Tifa out into the bar for a moment. It was just so unreal. He had a family. He had new parents, ones who loved each other and him. The uncertainty in his life was now gone.

And all three of his biggest questions had been answered.

Cloud came back into the living room and sat in his overstuffed reclining easy chair, inviting the children to join him while he watched anything that happened to catch his eye on the TV. Denzel snuggled in against the swordsman's side, while Marlene took up her usual position on his lap.

They fell asleep that way, the young father, his son, and the little girl who very well could have been his daughter.

Tifa made sure to capture the scene with her camera. Yet another photo for the set of frames above the mantle, another image burned into her heart. Another moment captured to remind Denzel that he was right where he belonged. It was all the proof they needed that they were, and always would be, a warm, loving family, regardless of what anyone on the outside said or believed.

* * *

**AN #2:** I used names of teachers I had in my primary and junior high years; Miss Harris was actually my 3rd grade teacher and Mr. Foster was the instrumental music teacher. I loved them both and have fond memories of my days under their instruction. On the opposite side of the spectrum, I thoroughly detest Mrs. Trammel (7th grade math/history teacher) and Mrs. Filmore (girls' PE teacher/girls sports coach) to this day. I wanted the kids to have teachers they liked and teachers they didn't like so much.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 05**

"_We'll be fine…"_

"…_I promise."_

"_You better be."_

_*~*~*~*~*_

Cloud straightened. "You okay?"

Tifa, bent over and leaning against the remains of a house as she caught her breath, nodded wordlessly. Cloud waited patiently for her to recover, moving closer so as to protect her if they were suddenly attacked. For her part, Tifa wasn't bothered by his protectiveness. Her ability to defend herself was compromised by the injuries she had sustained earlier. Also, they were alone, as their friends were busy elsewhere in Midgar. Reeve had not sent any WRO troops with them, either, trusting that they would do well enough on their own. Reeve was right, but it meant that Tifa and Cloud had to be extra vigilant.

"They're tough," she panted, an arm wrapped around her ribcage, her weight resting solely on her right leg. It had been a while since she last had to fight like this. She'd gotten soft – and out of shape – in the past year.

"Not as tough as the Remnant you fought, though, right?" Cloud asked teasingly when he stopped in front of her and took some of his weight off his own injured leg. He smirked and raised an eyebrow in a playfully mocking expression he only used when alone with Tifa.

She snorted as she slowly stood upright. "Only Sephiroth was a tougher opponent than that guy." Her tone suggested she was still pretty sore over losing to Kadaj's hulking brother that day in the church. But her words had their intended effect; Cloud dropped the teasing smirk in favor of making a disgusted face. Tifa huffed and shoved him lightly. _You know I'm teasing you. Get over it,_ the shove told him. Cloud merely rolled his eyes.

Like their friends and the members of the WRO, they'd been fighting nonstop since they began their assault on Midgar. What was left of it, at least. They were close to the church now, having split off from Barret, who insisted he could handle things just fine without them there to back him up. It had been over two hours since the three of them spoke to Vincent using Cloud's cell phone. Both Cloud and Tifa wondered how Vincent was doing down there, if Yuffie had managed to sneak in to help him. Yuffie could be a pest, they knew, but she was rather handy to have in a sticky situation. Like everyone else in AVALANCHE, the ninja had an innate ability to get herself in and out of trouble, though the former was far truer than the latter.

However, they could not afford to dwell on how everyone else was doing. They had to finish scouting Sector 5 first. As per Reeve's instructions, all of Midgar's reactors were to be completely destroyed. With Barret's help, Cloud and Tifa had amassed all the materials needed to make the same homemade bombs they made three years ago when bombing the reactors in Sectors 1 and 5, and had given the instructions and recipe to Shera so as to increase their productivity. As much as they trusted Reeve, no one wanted anyone from the WRO – which Barret claimed was a possible reincarnation of Shinra – to work on this project.

The pair had already set some bombs in the No. 5 reactor, the reactor being the first part of Sector 5 they visited before making their way to the residential area above the Plate and then the slums below. When they visited the reactor three years ago, they'd had to sneak past infantrymen and SOLDIERs, suits and scientists. This time, the reactor had been completely lifeless. They still went about their business with caution in the event they ran into operatives from Deepground. Once inside the heart of the reactor, they split up; Cloud went down to the lower deck, while Tifa took the uppermost level. Once they had activated the timers on each of the bombs, they threw caution to the wind and ran as fast as they could in spite of their injuries through the maze of corridors to the exit and then as far away from the reactor as possible.

The bombs went off just minutes after they had vacated the area. Knowing how much destructive power those bombs contained, they didn't need to go back and inspect their handiwork. It wouldn't have been safe without HAZMAT suits; some of the chemicals used in making the bombs produced noxious fumes when they were mixed together. Tifa wasn't sure if it was based on sheer dumb luck or because of divine intervention that they'd never had any accidents three years ago when they were making their bombs in the basement of her bar, and with a four-year-old Marlene sleeping upstairs. If they didn't kill themselves and take 7th Heaven with them, they would have had their innards liquefied by the fumes. They'd taken their bomb-making materials to one of the WRO's laboratories instead, where it was marginally safer for everyone in the event something went wrong. Luckily, the production of the bombs had gone smoothly, even if planting the bombs was so far proving easier said than done.

It was because of the difficulties the WRO was having in their attempts to plant the bombs that Cloud and Tifa weren't treating Sector 5 as though it were child's play. In spite of having traveled through nearly all of Sector 5 on foot without incident, Tifa watched Cloud from the corner of her eye while he searched their immediate surroundings for signs of moving enemies. She knew he did not want to be caught unawares here, injured as they were. And who was she to blame him? He had a promise to keep.

"Two gil for your thoughts," Tifa chuckled painfully beside him, facing to his rear to watch for enemies as well. Over the chaotic symphony that was warfare, they could not depend on their ears to alert them to a hostile presence. Their guard was up, their other senses working overtime to process the sights and smells around them. The sixth sense that all fighters developed over a period of time reached out, nervously touching the electromagnetic currents in the air for other life forms. Life forms intent on killing them.

"Just thinking about my promise to Sora."

"I thought that's what you were thinking of."

Cloud cleared his throat in mild irritation. "Then why ask?"

"Just wanted to make sure." Tifa laughed quietly. Sometimes the man made it all too easy to pick on him. He liked to deny it, of course, but Tifa knew better.

Sensing no enemies in this particular area, the couple decided to press on. The further they got into enemy territory, the easier Vincent's job would be. Or so they hoped. Sometimes – more often than not – things didn't work out as planned. So they trudged onward. It was all they could do.

The ruins of Midgar inspired a hodge-podge of feelings in the couple whenever they visited the place. Nostalgia. Heartbreak. Joy. Anger. Fear.

Cloud came here to train for and join SOLDIER. It was on his journey back to Midgar that he'd lost Zack. Just days later, he'd been reunited with Tifa, who had come to Midgar to search for Cloud and start anew following Sephiroth's murderous rampage through Nibelheim. They'd met Barret, Marlene, and Aeris here, and later on, Denzel too. They lost Jesse, Wedge and Biggs in Sector 7 when the Plate was dropped. Midgar was where Cloud confronted his demons, and in the little church where the flowers grew in Sector 5, both Cloud and Denzel had been cured of their Geostigma. For Cloud, everything began and ended in Midgar. It was where he'd died, and then been reborn.

The dead city held a similar significance for Tifa, but Midgar held more beginnings for her than endings. She'd been reunited with Cloud not just once, but _three times_. The first, following his escape from Shinra and Zack's sacrifice. The second, when Cloud found her unconscious in the church after being apart for so many months. And the third, the true reunion, was when he woke up in the pool of water and smiled, letting her know that he was okay.

Midgar was their beginning. In spite of the pain they'd both endured, this dead city was where their life together started.

They weren't about to let it all end in Midgar.

In the never-ending darkness, the church seemed to glow. Still, they approached the building with caution. Kadaj and his brother had gone inside the church the year before. If those two had dared set foot in Cloud and Tifa's most sacred place of solace, then Deepground might have done the same. The very thought of the enemy invading the one place where their deceased friends' presence was felt most was enough to bring Tifa's blood to a boil. From the corner of her eye, Tifa could see Cloud's jaw clench, and she heard the squeak of his leather gloves as his hands tightened on First Tsurugi's handle. She couldn't see his face, but Tifa knew Cloud's eyes were smoldering.

The doors were closed, just as Cloud had left them following his visit six months ago. He hadn't been able to set foot in the old city limits since then; what had been festering in the depths of the city made it too dangerous to visit the church alone. Following two attempts to visit, which resulted in Cloud being attacked by multiple DG soldiers and those hound-like creatures they had with them, he absolutely forbade Tifa and the kids from venturing into the dead city. He wasn't about to let his family risk their lives, especially when the kids were still fairly helpless in spite of their cunning resourcefulness. Aeris and Zack would understand.

As the pair regarded the closed doors from the shadows, they knew that just because the doors were closed, that didn't mean the church hadn't had any visitors lately. It was best to proceed with extreme caution.

Cloud lifted First Tsurugi, motioning with his left hand for Tifa to stay behind him and watch his back. They had to be silent. Any sound, even something as soft as a whisper, would alert their enemies to their presence if their own warrior spirits hadn't already done so.

Placing his hand on the door handle, Cloud took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm himself. Tifa did the same, her eyes locked on Cloud's back, watching his movements in the event they would need to fight or flee. His stillness told her that he had closed his eyes and was currently offering a silent prayer, a habit he'd taken up lately. Then, slowly, he pushed the doors open.

Silence and a distinct lack of an enemy presence greeted them.

Tifa rather thought she would have a heart attack right there on the spot. Cloud evidently felt the same regarding the situation as he pulled the doors closed as quietly as he could. Both sighed heavily as they listened to the blood pounding in their ears with every thundering beat of their hearts. In some ways, it scared them. In others, it made them feel so very much alive. They had children to protect, friends to help, promises to keep. That they were still standing in spite of their injuries was proof enough of their existence. It was a masochistic mindset, but in the midst of a battle, it was a mindset that held the cold hands of Death away.

Scanning the dark interior once more, Cloud nodded to Tifa and they both made their way to the pool of water that had cured so many and still had many more to save. Ducking into one of the pews, they sat on the floor and began to treat each other's injuries. Cloud's clothing was torn from his previous encounters with the forgotten remnants of SOLDIER and the fight with Rosso. Blood had soaked the fabric, utterly ruining his vest and pants. Tifa hoped Cloud wouldn't miss those articles of clothing, seeing as she'd have to throw them away when they got home.

He had also taken two bullets, one in his right thigh just above the knee, the other in his shoulder. His breathing was labored and he was keeping an arm wrapped around his ribcage, a sign that his ribs were broken during a skirmish in which they had encountered one of the guys carrying a bazooka. While he had certainly experienced much worse, it was far from being anything even remotely pleasant.

With her combat style, Tifa actually fared worse than Cloud. She sported numerous cuts and gashes, like Cloud, but she suffered more bruises and fractures. That she had been walking at all was a miracle in itself, as pain shot through her entire right leg with every step she took.

"Do you want to know how bad it is?" Cloud asked her quietly after he helped her lie back to lessen the stress on her injuries. Wordlessly, Tifa nodded, knowing that Cloud would have insisted on taking care of her before allowing himself to be healed. After prodding as gently as possible at the limb, Cloud finally sat back. "Your ankle's not broken," he said, reaching out to brush his fingers against her arm reassuringly. "It's just sprained. Your leg is broken, though."

"Go ahead and set it," Tifa said firmly. Already, she was gritting her teeth, bracing herself for the pain. She stared at the ceiling while Cloud carefully placed his hands on both sides of her thigh, and nodded when he turned his head to face her briefly. Mentally, she counted down from three, and on "one," she felt Cloud's hands quickly move the bone back into place, accompanied by a flash of white-hot pain and the sickening crunch of bone moving against bone. Tifa squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on something, anything, and therefore create a mental block that would numb her leg. Her ribs were in worse shape, and the bones in both hands were broken. She knew Cloud wouldn't do anything to her ribs, as it was too dangerous, and the bones in her hands were practically shattered, which made it impossible to set them before using a Cure. This was the worst beating she'd taken in a long time, and it showed.

When the pain finally subsided, Tifa cracked a wry smile. "At least I didn't get knocked unconscious or pass out this time," she said brightly, to which Cloud responded with a withering stare. Tifa knew he was not exactly amused by her sense of humor; in Cloud's way of thinking, her being badly injured and cognizant of what was going on around her was no better than when she'd been rendered unconscious whilst being otherwise unhurt. Privately, Tifa agreed with him, for she understood where he was coming from. She had always hated it when Cloud was knocked out in a fight or when he was injured so badly that he could hardly stand. However, she herself still felt she would much rather be in pain and awake rather than out cold and unaware.

It took a great deal of effort on Tifa's part to keep from crying out when Cloud finally fished his Cure materia out of his pocket and used it on her. Tough as she was, it still hurt badly when bones were set and mended, with or without materia. Thankfully, it only lasted all of two seconds before the pain subsided and she felt well enough to move around. Taking the proffered orb of crystallized mako energy, Tifa first checked for exit wounds where Cloud took the two bullets. Relief flooded through her when she counted two exit holes where the bullets passed right through his body. Then, and only then, did she use the Cure.

Cloud's breathing hitched as his ribs rapidly knitted and mended. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," he muttered. He accepted his Cure materia from Tifa and pocketed the orb. Standing, he snuck over to one of the windows, carefully scanning the outside for animated beings. Tifa went to the window on the opposite side of the church to do the same.

Nothing moved. The electric blue color of mako, which glowed in the darkness, failed to light up the slums. Yuffie had been right. Sector 5 was empty, both above and below the plate. As Tifa surveyed the darkness outside the window, she couldn't help shivering nervously. Shaking her head, she backed away from the glass and walked over to the pool. As she took a seat on the floorboards, her gaze flickered over to Cloud. His shoulders were so tense, they were shaking, and every so often, he would twitch. It was as if he were reliving a scene from one of Zack's memories, or one of their more recent scuffles with Deepground. It hurt Tifa to see him like this. Even when he'd been living in the church, Cloud had never been so visibly uneasy about staying in Sector 5 at night.

_Then again,_ Tifa reminded herself,_ he didn't know what was festering below the city._

She turned her attentions to the water when Cloud inhaled a shaky breath and turned away from the window. He sat next to her quietly, close enough to that their bodies were touching. For a long time, they didn't speak, choosing instead to study the pool, which used to be Aeris' flowerbed. The flowers were gone, submerged and drowned in the water, but Aeris was still felt there. Every nook, every cranny in the building positively sang of Aeris and her determined, playful, and loving nature. In addition to everything that spoke of Aeris, there was a quality to the atmosphere that told of Zack's presence in the church. Cloud and Tifa could feel it; a measure of strength and pride in the face of adversity that they always associated with the deceased ex-SOLDIER permeated the air. Perhaps they were the reason Deepground hadn't invaded Sector 5 the way it had the other towns in Midgar. It made sense, after all.

"Can you see them?" _Will you look for them?_

"No." _I'm looking._

Tifa smiled as Cloud placed his hand over hers, thinking of how ironic it was that they had only gone to Sector 5 to destroy the reactor before separating to lend their aid to WRO troops in the other sectors of Midgar, yet they were taking a breather and checking up on old friends. Enemies and allies alike were fighting, wounded, dying, or dead, and they were taking solace in what was perhaps the only sector that was completely free of a hostile presence. Did that mean they were selfish people? Did that mean they were bad people?

Several minutes passed before Cloud's voice broke the relative quiet of the church. Tifa jumped slightly, having relaxed so much that she had become lost in her own little world.

"Zack says everything's under control here." _Aeris is making him play messenger._

Recovered from being startled, Tifa giggled. "Sounds like he's not working hard enough." _It's probably best that she's not here right now, anyway._

Cloud grunted, eyes still locked on a spot on the opposite side of the pool. "He's laughing at you." _That's why he's been making her stay at home._

They stayed a moment longer, until Cloud informed Tifa that Zack said for them to take care of that which brought them to Midgar in the first place. She laughed good-naturedly and waved in the direction Cloud had been looking. "See you later, Zack," she called cheerily, standing slowly. As she turned away from the pool, Tifa glanced over her shoulder with a happy smile. "Tell Aeris to take it easy."

Cloud followed her, a casual smile playing its way onto his face. "He says, 'Not to worry.'" Tifa stopped when Cloud paused and glanced back at the spot he'd been watching while they were there. She could see the concentrated look on Cloud's face and knew that Zack was fading into nothing. "See you later, my friend," she heard Cloud whisper before he gave the fading ghost a barely-perceptible nod. Turning back to face her, Cloud closed his eyes slowly. _Let's go, _the action told her. He put an arm around her waist and they walked out of the church together.

With Sector 5 well-protected by forces from the beyond, Cloud and Tifa walked down the steps, their feet carrying them through the streets they'd traversed just a few years ago. "Do you want to call Reeve, or should I?"

Tifa shook her head and fished into her pocket for her phone. "I'll do it." Opening her mobile address book, Tifa selected Reeve's name and hit the "call" button. The WRO director answered on the first ring. "Sector Five is all clear, Yuffie was right. The reactor's done. We're moving on to Sectors Six and Seven."

Cloud waited until Tifa ended the call and closed her phone. "How're things going on their end?"

"Barret planted his bombs in the Sector One reactor. They've confirmed its destruction and Barret is okay."

"What about Yuffie and Vincent?"

"Nothing yet."

Cloud nodded, brow furrowed in concentration. "They'll be fine."

Tifa took his hand in hers. "And so will we."

She watched as Cloud smirked, and smiled when he nodded slightly. "Yeah. We will."

The old marketplace in the Sector Five slums was as dead as the rest of the once vibrant and bustling metropolis. Memories surfaced of faces they'd seen time and time again. Ghosts lingered in the shops of the vendors' stalls and the other businesses, their signs darkened without a source of power, yet blazing brightly in Cloud and Tifa's memories, as though they were still attempting to attract customers. Tifa's memories were all her own, but she knew that some of the memories Cloud retained were actually the ones of Zack's that still had not faded away. Regardless of whether their memories were genuinely theirs or otherwise, the haunting sight of the empty marketplace remained, forever scorched onto their retinas, burned into their memories like tattoos upon the skin.

It was no different above the Plate. Unlike their memories of the slums, however, their memories of the times they'd been above the Plate weren't pleasant at all. At least in the slums, they'd known friendship and had been part of a community. Above, no matter where they went, they were always outsiders, outcasts. Urchins. Good-for-nothings whose clothing, behavior, and eyes told anyone and everyone where they were from. It was because of this that they kept their visits to the richest parts of Midgar short, but long enough to get into the mako reactors to deal some damage. And that was only the tip of the iceberg. The worst memories were the ones Cloud and Tifa actively beat away with their mental defenses. They did not wish to relive those memories now, not when so much was riding on their successful delivery of the bombs they carried to their assigned reactors.

What remained of the old Sector 5 station served as the perfect distraction.

Cloud bit off a colorful curse when, just as he began to peer around the corner to look for enemies, a bullet struck the brick wall just above his head. Behind him, Tifa chuckled a little. "At least they know the difference between you and a chocobo."

Her jovial teasing did what she'd expected it to do. Cloud tossed her a half-hearted glare over his shoulder and growled lowly. "Don't even go there."

"Chocobo-head."

"Tifa," Cloud ground out in warning. Regardless of his mood, he did _not_ like that old nickname. Tifa could sometimes get away with using it, but Cloud greatly preferred that no one use it under any circumstances whatsoever. Now was not the time to joke around with that name anyway.

Tifa waved him off. Instead, she pulled him back into the old marketplace, where they were relatively safe from the DG soldiers lurking along the rail lines. "We should zap them with something lightning-based."

Cloud nodded. "Or we could burn them." He reached into the pouch he kept his elemental materia in, tossing a Thunder materia to Tifa while he equipped himself with a Fire materia. He then fished two Cures out of the knee pocket of his pants. "Take this," he said firmly as he pressed one of the orbs into her hands. They were both down to two Phoenix Downs a piece, and they were running low on their oral instant-fixes like potions and elixirs as well. Using their Cure materia would help keep them in relatively good shape until their business in Midgar was finished.

Tifa nodded mutely, intently focused on making sure she had everything she needed. She stopped her borderline obsessive-compulsive checking and rechecking when Cloud reached out and grabbed her hands in his.

"When this is all over," he murmured shakily, yet with an aura of determination. "When this is all over, when all that's left to worry about is when the Heartless attack…will you marry me?"

Tifa smiled. "Yes, Cloud, I will." She laughed a little into the quick kiss he gave her, then shook her head bemusedly when he backed away. "You don't need to get a ring." _The ring I'm wearing now is perfect. It finally has a proposal to go with it._

"Haven't been able to get one, anyway." _The one you're wearing suits you anyway._

Tifa giggled, removing the glove on her right hand to study the Fenrir-themed band. It was shaped like the wolf's head badge on Cloud's shoulder guard, as well as the earring he wore on his left ear and the clasp on his left-hand glove. Like those three ornaments adorning Cloud's person, the wolf on Tifa's ring held a ring of its own in its jaws. Smiling, she replaced the glove and motioned in the direction of the train station. "Dilly dally, shilly-shally. Let's go."

Cloud took off after her, wondering what happened to the hopeless romantic of a girl he'd known when he was still a boy. Then again, people change over time, and Tifa was now a tomboy like no other. He wouldn't have it any other way. As much has he hated to see her get hurt, Cloud knew he wouldn't have any other woman in his life they way he had Tifa.

They raced around the corner onto the train station's platform. DG soldiers, hiding behind piles of rubble, opened fire on them, while SOLDIERs armed with swords rushed forward to engage them in close-range combat. Tifa sprinted ahead of Cloud, her smaller, more agile body enabling her to dodge their enemies' attacks. Cloud jumped in front of her when, as she was engaging one SOLDIER, another moved in from her blind spot. He easily blocked the strike meant to hurt Tifa, pushing against the other man's blade with First Tsurugi. While he pushed against the man, Tifa finished her first opponent and swooped in like the warrior angel she was to land a few well-placed punches and kicks. Cloud adjusted his grip on his sword's handle and pushed up and out, disarming their opponent and slicing into his soft belly with the end of his blade. Neither Cloud nor Tifa could afford to stop and think about the man who would slowly bleed to death, whether or not he had any family to return to, or the friends he was leaving behind. Several more of the enemy awaited them, and only their incredible teamwork would help them through the pandemonium they were fighting through.

_Teamwork. They were equals whose strengths complimented their weaknesses._

There was never any need to worry about where the other was or wasn't. Their teamwork was a choreographed dance like nothing anyone had ever seen before or since. It was a dance many enemies never survived.

Cloud's mind wandered a little as he cut down enemy after enemy, something it did when the "on" switch for the part of his brain that controlled all his reflexes, actions, and reactions in battle had been flicked like a light switch. He couldn't control where his mind went. It just seemed to randomly pick a destination, and it always went in that direction come hell or high water. This wandering habit had no effect on his fighting ability, and it did not distract him unless the imagery was particularly disturbing. It just happened.

*~*~*~*~*

_A boy who looked no older than twelve stood in the middle of the arena. To his left stood a clothed duck, of all things, and on his other side, a clothed dog. It was rather peculiar, he thought, until he saw the weapons each carried. _Ah,_ he thought absently. _They're here to fight. Don't look like much, though.

_He didn't dwell on the trio's reason for being there. He himself had business to take care of and an employer to meet with. Still, it wouldn't hurt to just walk past them and eyeball them for a moment to see if they were worth his time. He'd become rather good at being able to tell if someone was worth fighting just by looking at them. Needless bloodshed wasn't his thing; kill the ones that were tough to beat, and injure the rest just enough to knock them out of the fight._

_From the shadows, he strode into the burning sunlight. The satyr, with whom the boy had been talking a few moments ago, attempted to pretend he wasn't there, but the creature was shaking all over. From anger or fear, he couldn't tell. He didn't care. He just wanted to see if this kid was worth anything. Looks, he knew, could be deceiving. Aeris, Tifa, and Yuffie had proven themselves every bit as good in a fight as the men in their group time and time again. Nanaki had always been able to prove that he was at _least_ as tough and capable as a human. If this kid was able to provide him with a bit of a challenge, then perhaps he'd let the kid live so he could face him again at some point down the road._

_Suddenly, it felt as though all the air had been sucked from his lungs. He hid it well behind a veil of critical scrutiny, but he just _couldn't_ pull his gaze from the boy._

_Not for the first time in his life, and certainly not the last, Cloud Strife was thoroughly and utterly gobsmacked._

He looks like me…he looks like…me…

_The boy's eyes were so bright, he at first thought they'd been infused with mako energy. That idea was quashed when he could not feel the energy that mako radiated when he was close enough to feel the boy's warrior spirit. After suffering two cases of mako poisoning, he knew what the energy felt like. If there was any mako in this boy's system, its levels were insignificant at best. The shape of the boy's eyes was also familiar, Cloud couldn't remember just where he had seen someone with eyes like that, at least, not off the top of his head. He just knew that whoever had eyes like that, they weren't blue or green, but a darker color, perhaps hazel, or brown, or even some shade of red._

_There was also the lad's hair style. It was so similar to the spiky blond locks he saw when he caught his reflection in the mirror or in a pool of water, he fought the urge to do a double-take. It wouldn't do to lose his cool here in front of his employer just because of a shared resemblance between himself and a boy to whom he couldn't possibly be related. As much as he disliked Hades he couldn't let the Lord of the Underworld spot any weaknesses. But inside, where Hades couldn't see, he was a mess of confused, jumbled thoughts and questions. He didn't know of anyone else whose hair even remotely resembled his own spiky style regardless of hair color._

_It was…frightening. For reasons he could not fathom, this little boy scared him more than anything or anyone. Even Sephiroth._

_*~*~*~*~*_

"Did I tell you about the first time I saw him?" Cloud asked, his voice almost lost in the echoing sounds of their panting breaths and running footsteps.

Tifa glanced over at him briefly in surprise, but averted her gaze quickly so as to avoid tripping over something, even her own feet. It took her a few seconds to finally understand just who it was Cloud was referring to, and when realization dawned on her, she smiled fondly. "Huh-uh, you didn't."

"I saw him in the Coliseum, when I was working for Hades. I was ordered to kill him, but he defeated me."

"So he's saved you several times already, is that it?" Tifa sounded rather amused.

Cloud hummed thoughtfully. "I guess you could say that."

They came to a stop when they finally reached Sector 8. The shouts of the WRO troops were close and increasingly jubilant. It was time to check in with one of the commanders, then split up. From there, it was just a matter of staying alive without having someone they knew and trusted to watch their backs. Exchanging pointed looks, they said all they needed to say. Tifa leaned forward and kissed her new fiancé softly, an unspoken promise and request. _I'll be waiting. Come back._

He quickly returned the kiss. _I will if you will. Be safe._

Without even a glance back, they separated. They had bombs to deliver.

* * *

**31 Jan 2009**

My _profound_ apologies for going nearly eight months without updating. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I will try to update more regularly from now on.

I would also like to extend my thanks to Ritsu-san and Shard, my betas. They are amazing.

As a reminder, this is a crossover with _Kingdom Hearts_ and _Final Fantasy VIII._ It is also AU from the original _KH_ storyline following Sora's fight with Xemnas in _KH2_. This would explain Sora being in Radiant Garden before his return to the Destiny Islands, and it would explain Cloud's flashback at the end of this chapter (his first meeting with Sora in _KH_ at the Coliseum).

As for Tifa's ring, there are four key scenes in _Advent Children_ where the ring is shown, and only two of these scenes depict the ring in any detail: when Tifa and Marlene visit the church; when she calls Cloud out on his crap; when she joins Cid and Barret on the support beam in the fight with Bahamut SIN; and when she nudges Denzel toward Cloud so his Geostigma could be cured. Denzel wears an identical ring around his neck on a bit of black cord, and his ring is most clearly seen when he comes to after Bahamut SIN's attack knocks him and Tifa over, rendering Tifa unconscious.

Thanks for reading, and please be sure to review. Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 06**

_Cloudless again,_ Sora grouched as he watched the setting sun from his perch on one of the cliffs high above the ocean. Under the right circumstances, he enjoyed watching the sunset out on the island. Today, however, he wasn't impressed. The weather forecast had been too accurate. The weatherman had been saying for weeks that the Destiny Islands would enjoy a few days of uninterrupted sunlight, perfect for sunbathers and surfers. The ideal weather conditions, however, ruined Sora's sunset for the fourth consecutive day. Without clouds, the wild blue yonder was empty. Barren. A flat gradient of color with nothing to add texture or to shield the viewer's eyes from the painfully-bright rays of golden light.

Idly, young Sora wondered if, perhaps, he should have asked his mother, Riku, or Kairi – _anyone,_ for that matter – to come with him. His mother would have closed her bar or put one of his aunts or uncles in charge until they came back. It was one of those things she always did without question, a sacrifice willingly made to ensure he went to sleep with a smile. Sora was grateful to have been blessed with such a wonderful mother, and made a point to spend time with her every day. He couldn't bring himself to care what the other kids at school would say if they found out he still watched the sunset with his mother. Why should he care if they said anything, if they called him a "mama's boy", when they never shared similarly simple moments with their own – _intact_ – families? He'd stopped caring a long time ago. He felt hollow, empty, as barren as the cloudless skies he detested so much.

He shook his darker thoughts aside. There had been a reason for his solitary trip to the island after dinner. He wanted to think – _alone._ His mother would want to talk if she had come, and he was sick of _talking_.

Riku couldn't stand to be around him anymore. The look in his eerie green eyes – _eyes like Sephiroth's _– every time Sora came near him spoke of how badly he wanted to beat some sense into his friend. _If_ they were still friends. Privately, Sora felt that Riku should just punch him. It would get them both in a lot of trouble with their parents, and Kairi might decide to go home to Radiant Garden just to get away from them, but it would make Riku feel better.

Maybe…_maybe_…the pain would be enough to convince Sora that even an empty person could feel.

Kairi had taken to staying away from both of them to avoid getting caught in the middle. Who was he to blame her? He hated being caught in the middle as much as he hated being on one side of a conflict. With Kairi's more pacifistic nature, avoidance was her best weapon. When she couldn't avoid them, she was civil, which was more than could be said for himself and Riku. Her eyes, however, betrayed her concern for him. She wanted to help him, she wanted to make sure he was okay. She just didn't know what to do. It wasn't in her to slap him. Kairi wasn't like that.

Sora didn't know which was worse; having a friend who refused to hit him even though he _really _wanted to, or a friend who refused to associate with him while he was so bitter because she didn't want to get caught up in a fight.

The emptiness deepened.

He hated feeling like this, but at the same time, he didn't care. Rather, he _pretended_ he didn't care. It hurt too much to _not_ care about.

A mirthless smile appeared on his face. Maybe Riku didn't have to punch him after all. He looked away from the cloudless sunset, the metaphorical mirror of himself, choosing instead to watch as the waves crashed against the rocks below. The spray rose into the air, fine droplets landing on the exposed skin of his arms, legs, and face, cooling him and providing a measure of relief in the tropical summer heat. He closed his eyes to keep the salt water out and breathed deeply.

Just over a year and a half ago, he and Riku had come home – Riku from the darkness, and Sora from his quest to save his friends and the worlds. They'd been nervous. Were their parents going to be angry with them? Had their parents forgotten them? Would their parents be happy to see them?

And, Sora had wondered, _Would Dad be there? Would Denzel be there?_

He'd parted ways with Riku and Kairi in the middle of the street, Kairi going to her house across the street, he and Riku going to their homes on the opposite side. Just before they walked through their respective front doors, he and Riku waved nervously, silently wishing each other luck. Forcing himself to calm down, Sora opened the door, his ears and eyes already searching for any sign that Cloud and Denzel had been returned to him and his mother. He had been sorely disappointed when, upon his entrance through the front door of his mother's bar, he neither saw, nor heard, his father or his brother.

The bitterness Sora felt when the realization dawned on him remained, but was lessened when his mother looked up from the sink at the bar to see her remaining child and the only living reminder of what she'd had with her husband standing in the doorway. Sora remembered how his mother blinked a few times, as if unsure that the lanky young man before her really was her son. He even thought that, perhaps, his mother wondered if she were looking at Cloud instead – mirrors, Sora felt, were the bane of his existence – because his mother then got that far-off look in her eyes. Drawing from past experience, Sora simply assumed his mother was thinking about his father.

Contrary to what Sora assumed, Tifa Lockhart-Strife wasn't thinking about her husband, or her oldest son, when Sora stepped into the bar. After a few minutes passed, during which she visibly wrestled with a myriad of feelings – doubt, hope, joy, and relief – she rushed forward, tears spilling down her cheeks as she wrapped her youngest son in a tight embrace.

The relief Sora felt when he lost himself in his mother's arms was powerful enough to completely override his darker feelings. His mother remembered him. She was happy to see him.

It was a Monday, and the bar was closed early, so when Tifa finally released him, they went out to sit on the roof. There was a sense of awkwardness between them at first. They didn't know what to say to one another. _What do you say to someone you haven't seen in two years, even if you just saw them?_ The minutes felt like hours as they ticked by in the silence. Finally, when the sun seemed to tickle the water's surface, and afternoon faded into twilight, Sora turned to his mother. "You're not angry?" His voice was small, and he mentally kicked himself for sounding like such a wuss. Tifa wasn't the type of person who would welcome someone as happily as she'd welcomed him, only to turn around and rail on them.

Tifa shook her head, a wistful look in her eyes. She did not smile, nor did she look at him. Her expression had been calm, yet very serious. "You scared me to death, but no, I'm not angry with you, Sora. You're alive, you're well, and you came home. That's all I wanted." She turned to him, a tiny smile upon her lips when she saw the surprise etched clearly into his face. "Now why don't you explain what it was that made you leave home, huh?"

Through his surprise, he was able to crack a smile. "Remember when Riku, Kairi and I were building that raft, so we could sail off and visit other worlds?" he asked in a tiny voice. Looking back, the raft had been a foolish, naïve idea, and he felt stupid for even thinking it was a feasible endeavor. Privately, he hoped Riku and Kairi felt as dumb as he did. He also hoped Tifa wouldn't laugh about it too much.

His mother laughed heartily and ruffled his hair. "How could I forget? You three spent every free moment you had on that raft."

Sora laughed with her, ducking out of reach and attempting to straighten his unruly light brown locks. "We finished it, and we were going to set sail. I know," he said quickly, noticing the withering look his mother shot him. "That wasn't one of our brightest ideas, but we wanted to know what existed beyond the islands."

He looked away, suddenly finding the shingles to his right more interesting than the horizon in front of him. "The…the night of the storm, when we all disappeared," he began hesitantly, "these creatures called Heartless invaded the islands, and I received this weapon called the Keyblade, which is used like a sword, but it's shaped like a giant key. I didn't know what I was doing, but I _did_, somehow, and I fought a gigantic Heartless – it was _huge!_ It reminded me of the stories everyone told me about Bahamut Sin. I won the fight, and suddenly, I wasn't here or out on the island."

Tifa nodded wordlessly, encouraging him to continue.

Sora shifted nervously. "Then I woke up in a place called Traverse Town, where I met this guy named Squall Leonheart – he insisted on being called 'Leon' until the Heartless were gone and he could return to his own world. I also met up with Yuffie, and Cid, and I finally met Aeris."

Beside him, his mother gasped in surprise. "You met Aeris?"

He nodded quickly, his brow furrowed in thought. "Yeah, but I wasn't in the Lifestream or anything. She _was_ real and alive, though, I know that much." He shook his head. "I didn't get it then, and I still don't understand. It was so weird, seeing Yuffie and Cid – they seemed younger – and Aeris.

"The weirdest part wasn't seeing them, it was meeting a talking duck named Donald and a talking dog named Goofy. They were looking for 'the Key,' the person who had been chosen by the Keyblade so they could find King Mickey and save the worlds from the Darkness." Sora lifted his head a little and peered at his mother from the corner of his eye. "They were looking for me."

Tifa's arm tightened around his shoulders a little, drawing him close against her side. "You had a destiny to fulfill."

Resting his head against her shoulder, he nodded. "Donald and Goofy followed me everywhere I went. I just wanted to find Riku and Kairi and go home, but I couldn't just let others suffer. The worlds I went to were so different, too. Some of the…_beings_…weren't even human, like Beast, and Phil, and Simba. I met other talking animals, I met gods…I made a lot of friends." He smiled brightly for a moment before his expression fell. Tifa leaned forward a little in concern. He shook his head and cleared his throat. "I was in Hercules' world at the Olympus Coliseum. We were getting a pep talk from Phil after our first match in the preliminaries in this tournament that was 'heroes-only.' I saw…I saw Dad."

Almost instantly, Sora regretted mentioning his first encounter with his father, for he felt his mother stiffen against him. It was a rare thing for them to talk about Cloud. For as long as he could remember, Sora had always gone to one of his aunts, namely Yuffie, or one of his uncles if he wanted to talk about his father. He'd always tried to avoid bringing his father up when in his mother's presence. Her reactions, like the one she'd just given him, always made him feel nauseated and cold, like he'd suddenly come down with croup or the flu.

"How did you meet him?"

He stared at Tifa in utter shock. He hadn't expected her to respond to his admission this way. It seemed as though his brain had turned to mush, as it took several moments to form even one coherent thought. "He was working for Hades, who wanted him to kill Hercules. He looked at me funny when he walked right by me, like he was trying to figure out if I was worth fighting or something. It was weird." Sora shook his head.

Tifa offered a tiny smile. "Cloud was always like that, even with people he knew. It was his way of discerning the true meaning in someone's words or actions."

"Even with you?"

She shook her head slowly, and Sora wrapped his left arm around her waist. Tifa leaned over to kiss his temple. "What happened next? Did you have to fight him?"

Sora nodded. "I didn't see him for the rest of the tournament until we had to fight in the finals, and I beat him. I was going to talk to him after the match…I wanted to learn about him, to get to know him. Hades sent his three-headed guard dog, Cerberus, after us and hurt Dad badly enough to knock him out. Hercules got him away from Cerberus, and Phil had us fight Cerberus to distract him while Hercules got out of there with Dad.

"He was sitting on the steps outside when Phil and Hercules were done talking to us...I clammed up, and only asked if he was okay. He never beat me either." He'd paused momentarily when his mother laughed a little. "He joined with Leon and the others after I defeated the Heartless of this guy named Xehanort, or so Yuffie said."

As the night wore on, he explained his search for Riku and the king, which lead to his first encounter with Organization XIII, Naminé, and his year-long sleep, followed by his reunion with Leon, Yuffie, Aeris and Cloud in Hollow Bastion. He recounted each of the worlds he'd been to, giving descriptions of the friends he'd made and the enemies he'd fought as accurately as memory would allow. It seemed strange; he could recall everything so clearly in Radiant Garden, before he returned home, but the details were already fading, leaving his memories somewhat frayed at the edges. Occasionally, Tifa would laugh when his frustration over being unable to clearly remember got the better of him. Sora would only cast a glare lacking any real emotion at her before moving on to the next chapter in his story.

"Oh!" he exclaimed in the middle of a story of another return visit to Hollow Bastion. "I saw you, too, Mom! You were looking for Dad, and you came into Ansem the Wise's office, asking if I'd seen a guy with spiky hair. I was kinda shocked, 'cause you, uh, looked, um, _younger_." He shrank away little, expecting his mother to take offense to his statement. Though she didn't take offense to things the way Yuffie did, Sora understood that there were certain things men had to avoid saying around a woman at all costs. Any and all references to age and appearance, as demonstrated by Reno and Cid, were at the top of the list.

Tifa's expression was one of surprise for the briefest of seconds before a thoughtful look took its place. "Really, now," she murmured curiously. She flashed a cocky half-smile when Sora nodded enthusiastically. "Did you get to see me kick butt?"

Sora couldn't help laughing, his concern forgotten. "Oh yeah, but not til the battle for Radiant Garden began – Hollow Bastion used to be known as Radiant Garden, Aeris says. You, Yuffie, Dad, and Leon helped me take care of the Heartless that had infested the Crystal Fissure, _and_ you fought Sephiroth when Dad started hesitating. You were awesome!"

Tifa's grin had faltered at the mention of Sephiroth's name. Sora thought it was because of her memories of what Sephiroth had done in the past and quickly changed the subject, choosing to carry on with his story instead. He told her about Axel, known as the Flurry of Dancing Flames and his own Nobody, named Roxas, who was Axel's best friend. A blush crept into his face when he admitted that the two Nobodies might have been more than "just friends," to which his mother responded with a reassuring smile. When he finally finished his tale, his mother tightened her arm around his shoulders.

"I think this business of running off to save the world, however involuntary, runs in the family," she teased. "Don't forget, your father and I, and Yuffie, Barret, Vincent, Cid, Nanaki, Reeve, and Aeris all saved the world. Yuffie was just a year older than you were when we did it." His mother then looked away for a moment, as if seeing something – or _someone_ – that Sora himself couldn't see. She then returned her eyes to his, gazing upon him with a sad, but loving smile. "It's in your blood, Sora," she murmured, resting her cheek against his head. "You're definitely your father's son."

"I'm your son, too, Mom," he murmured sadly, and tightened the arm he'd wrapped around his mother's waist as they sat on the roof, watching as the sun rose over the town.

There had been one surprise, however, that Sora hadn't been prepared for.

The Tifa, Yuffie, and Cid he'd met in Radiant Garden weren't the ones he had known all his life. The Cloud he'd met in Radiant Garden wasn't the Cloud he never had the chance to know. "You've never been to Radiant Garden?" he asked in utter disbelief.

His mother shook her head. "Until tonight, I've never heard of Radiant Garden." Tifa turned to meet her son's eyes. "And until you were born, I'd never seen you."

Sora's shoulders slumped. Were it not for his mother's arm there to steady him, he would have tumbled off the roof, he'd become so limp. His mouth hung open for several moments while his eyes flickered about rapidly as if searching the air for answers. It was impossible for him to attempt to hide the confusion he felt. He didn't understand. How was it possible?

His mother laughed a little beside him. "I remember, when you were a little guy, you would always try to cheer me up whenever I was overwhelmed by my memories of your dad and brother. You'd say, 'Mommy, I'm gonna go back and save Daddy and Denzel! And we're gonna live happily ever after!'"

"Marlene told me to stop that. She said it made you feel worse," Sora muttered bitterly. He leaned over to rest his head against his mother's shoulder – just as he had done the night before with the other Tifa. "I didn't want to make you cry anymore."

Tifa kissed the top of his head. "Sweetheart, I miss your dad and Denzel so much, even now. It hurts to lose people you love. When you would say you were going to go back and save your dad and your brother, I cried because I missed them, but I also cried because you sounded just like me when my mother died." She nudged Sora's chin with her fingers, and when he finally looked at her, she smiled sadly. "You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you did go back, and I think you were able to save all of us. Just by telling us, especially Cloud, to be careful, I think you did what you always wanted to do."

"But I didn't bring them back!" Sora protested. His eyes stung, and blinked rapidly to fight the tears. "I saved the worlds, I saved Riku and Kairi, and I may have gone back in time, but…" he trailed off when his voice caught in his throat.

His mother sighed. "Maybe you weren't supposed to," she murmured soothingly.

As much as he wanted to believe his mother, Sora couldn't help but feel there was still something he could do.

Cloud Strife had had many close calls and may have actually died once. At the time, however, there hadn't been a place for him in the Lifestream, so his wounds were healed and he was returned to his loved ones for a second chance to live the life he'd tried to live before. And he'd lived that life to its fullest, spending less time out on deliveries and more time with his family. He married, fathered a child and adopted another.

_He died protecting his family_.

There are no third chances. Cloud Strife, the father Sora had never gotten a chance to know, would not be getting a third chance. It had been too much to hope for anyway, but Sora couldn't help it. From the moment he first saw his father before he'd been forced to fight him in the Coliseum, it was all the young teenager could do to keep himself in check. "Don't get your hopes up," became his motto whenever he saw Cloud or whenever he thought of the blond hero. He'd gotten his hopes up anyway.

There was Denzel to consider, as well. Sora's older brother, the child his parents adopted, had been twelve at the time of Sora's birth and the day the Heartless attacked Gaia. He had also died at age twelve. It was rare that anyone ever spoke of Denzel's death. Cloud's sacrifice was something that no one liked to talk about, but did so anyway. It was expected that perhaps _someone_ in their group would die in the next attack on the planet and her people, and Cloud was the one most likely to die simply because he was _Cloud Strife_, the man who defeated Sephiroth. Not just once, but _twice._ Upstarts always want to prove themselves, and what better way to prove their worth and skill in open combat than to challenge Cloud Strife?

Denzel's death had come as a complete shock to everyone. He was a twelve-year-old _boy_, a _child_. There was never any sense in killing a child. Yet the masters that came with the Heartless killed him. They killed him because he had run down the gangplank of Cid's newly-designed gummi ship to help his father and Vincent get to safety. They killed a boy just for loving his father and his uncle and wanting to help them.

The thought made Sora sick with anger.

There are no third chances, but there are second chances. Cloud had died once, and therefore could not be revived a second time. Denzel, on the other hand, had never been seriously injured. He'd been orphaned, forced to fend for himself on the streets, and suffered with Geostigma, but he'd never been so seriously hurt that he could've died. Logically speaking, shouldn't Denzel get a second chance? Didn't his older brother _deserve_ a second chance?

Sora thought so.

In some ways, knowing that Denzel would not be getting a second chance hurt more than knowing that he would never know his father. Cloud had known, understood, and accepted that he might die in a fight, and death was but an aspect of the life he'd chosen to live. Denzel was not a warrior, though. He did not live the lifestyle his parents lived. He was never trained in the martial arts or the art of swordsmanship. He was a _child_. No parent should ever have to say good-bye to their children, whether the child is theirs by birth or otherwise.

Children should be the ones saying good-bye to their parents, but only after they have had an opportunity to _know_ them.

He wanted to know his father. He wanted to know his brother. Surely there was something he could do, some way he could see them, talk to them.

He fell asleep thinking about it after he and his mother went inside. It plagued him, like a pestilence for which there was no cure.

The sound of the home phone ringing downstairs woke him a few hours later at just after two o'clock. Yuffie was calling; she wanted to see Sora with her own eyes. With no other choice, he showered, dressed, and followed his mother to Riku's house. Yuffie all but smothered him when she saw him, while Vincent's greeting was far more sedate. The adults went inside shortly thereafter, leaving Sora and Riku to chat on the front porch. In the course of their conversation, Sora found out that Riku's homecoming had been rather similar and that he had learned the same things Sora had. Like Tifa, Yuffie had never seen her son until the day she and Vincent adopted him. Kairi came over from where she lived across the street with Cid and Shera, her legal guardians, and told her friends that Cid had never seen the boys until Riku was adopted and Sora was born, and until she arrived in the Destiny Islands a few years ago, he'd never seen her either. They sat on Riku's front porch for hours talking about it.

Riku had been the one to finally come to a conclusion. "Aeris and Merlin said something about Radiant Garden being a world just like any other world, but somehow different, like a parallel universe or something." He suddenly got up and went inside for a few minutes, returning with a regular notebook like the ones they used in class for note-taking and a sketchbook. Sora noticed that the notebook was full of notes and diagrams, questions Riku had asked himself, and answers he'd received. The pages in the sketchbook had been used as well; sketches of Heartless and Nobodies, maps and locations were drawn accurately in pencil and gone over in ink. There were even sketches of Sora and Kairi, and of Roxas, Sora's Nobody.

But Riku wasn't interested in describing the "pretty pictures" he'd drawn. He wanted to explain what he'd learned on his own quest. "The worlds we visited are parallel universes to ours, since the rules and laws of nature are different there than they are here," he said, pointing to one of the maps he'd drawn. Sora recognized the map as the one he'd seen on the navigation screen in his gummi ship. He nodded, and Riku continued. "You know how Mom, Dad, and everyone else talks about the Lifestream?"

"Yeah, it was the life force of the planet in our old world." Sora shook his head. "What does that have to do with Radiant Garden and this parallel universe stuff?"

Kairi, who had been silent following her announcement that Cid had never been to Radiant Garden, clapped her hands, a bright grin spreading across her face. "Radiant Garden is like a bridge!"

"Exactly!" Riku nodded, also grinning. "It's where some of the people who returned to the Lifestream have gone."

"Like Aeris," Sora breathed. He then reached for the notebook, flipping through page after page of notes scrawled in Riku's messy shorthand. He paused when he came to a particular page. "You wrote, 'Time is irrelevant yet essential.' What's that supposed to mean?"

And it was at this point in their discussion that Riku grinned triumphantly. "In Radiant Garden itself, time passes normally. People are born, live for a while just like anyone else, and then they die. If they were to leave for another world, like Kairi, nothing happens to them, and their lifespan wouldn't be affected."

"But time stops for them if they die in another world and come to Radiant Garden," Sora finished, a grin slowly working its way onto his face.

Riku nodded. "That's Merlin's theory. Aeris thinks it might be more selective than that. She didn't say why, though."

They were forced to cut their discussion short when their families suggested they visit with everyone else. At first, Sora, like Riku and Kairi, had been rather reluctant to go beyond the driveway, all of them stricken with slight cases of agoraphobia, but they'd willingly ventured to the other houses on their street, all owned by members of their extended family. Their parents and guardians followed along behind quietly with Riku's little brother and sister in tow, allowing the three friends to decide where they wanted to go. Most teens would have been horribly embarrassed to have their parents follow them around while they visited with family friends, but Sora and his friends didn't mind. Everything still felt like a dream at that point.

As he readjusted to being home and sleeping in his own bed over the next couple of weeks, Sora observed that a lot had changed in two years. Nich and Eri, Riku's little brother and sister, were bigger, faster, and much more annoying than they used to be. Tidus was still socially inept, but he actually had a girlfriend now – Sora realized on his first day back to school why the faerie named Yuna in Radiant Garden had looked and sounded so familiar; she was his _classmate_ – so maybe there was hope for Tidus after all. Some of the elderly couples in their neighborhood had passed on, and stiff new families moved into the houses once occupied by the good-natured souls now laid to rest in the cemetery on the hill behind the church.

Sora didn't like some of those changes. He especially didn't like the new neighbors and their bratty kids.

And now, as he sat on one of the cliffs above the crashing waves below, Sora lay back on the smooth, flat rock with a groan. He didn't like _anything_ anymore. He was too consumed by his disappointment – and continued heartbreak – over the fact that neither his father nor his brother had been returned to him and his mother. _Nothing_ made him happy, _nothing_ was even remotely pleasant. He'd risked it all to save the different worlds and his friends. Didn't he deserve _something_ from whatever higher being was out there as a token of thanks?

He thought so. It was something else he'd slowly allowed to fester in his unwillingness to mention it around his family and friends.

Just two months ago, before school let out for the summer, Sora finally went to one of the adults to vent, but he hadn't gone to his mother. Instead, he went to Vincent Valentine, Riku's adopted father. He stormed into the Valentines' house after school on a Friday knowing that Yuffie would be out with Nich and Eri, and Riku would be working at Cid's repair shop. Fridays also meant Vincent would be home early. Blind to everything else in the house, he allowed his feet to carry him to the first-floor office that overlooked the backyard.

When he entered the office, Sora noticed that his uncle hadn't changed out of the suit he wore to work every day; the navy jacket had been removed, but the white dress shirt, the navy tie, and the navy dress pants, and even the uncomfortable dress shoes were still in place. He'd probably been on the phone with Tseung when he got home and hadn't been able to change into more comfortable clothing. For perhaps the zillionth time, Sora wondered if this was really the same Vincent Valentine who had run around with long, wild hair, wearing a cloak and headband the color of blood. The Vincent he'd always known kept his hair relatively short, save for the long, unruly bangs in front, and his usual attire was that of a normal civilian on the Board of Directors as the chief of security at a large company. Yuffie always said Vincent wanted to look official while on the job, and Sora decided his aunt was right. Vincent _did_ look official.

"We have no other choice, Tseung," Vincent was saying into the receiver of his microphone headset as he studied something on his flatscreen monitor. "Tell Rufus and Reeve there's no way to cut costs without eliminating more than half of…no. Yes, we can talk about this later. Tomorrow night sounds good. Alright. See you then." He sighed as he logged out of the company network; suddenly, he seemed so tired. "I appreciate your patience, Sora."

Sora nodded agitatedly. "Trouble at work?"

Vincent raised his eyes to regard him briefly. "You could say that, though I am not at liberty to discuss the matter. However, I gather you are not here to discuss economics." His deep voice was calm and quiet, the opposite of what Sora was feeling.

Sora hesitated for but a moment before his anger all but incinerated his reservations. "Why couldn't I bring them back? I did everything I was asked to do; I saved the worlds, I saved my friends! I didn't ask to be a hero! I didn't ask for anything in return! Why can't I have Dad and Denzel back?" Pent-up rage made its way into his hands, which he clenched and unclenched again and again into angry fists. It was becoming harder and harder to rein his temper in, to keep a cool head, when under the surface, he was a time bomb waiting to explode. A sound that was somewhere between a scream and a growl rose up in his throat as he lashed out with his fist. A sharp crack was heard when his fist connected with the doorframe. It vaguely registered that his right hand was hurting, but he didn't care. It probably wasn't even broken.

Sighing heavily, his uncle stood from his desk and walked over to where Sora stood in the doorway, gesturing for him to sit on the sofa. Taking a moment to loosen his tie and undo the topmost buttons of his dress shirt, Vincent sat next to him, taking his injured hand to make sure he hadn't seriously injured himself. "How many times did your parents, myself, Yuffie, Cid, Barret, and Nanaki save the planet?" Vincent asked while he poked and prodded at Sora's knuckles.

It had to be a trick question, Sora thought. It was a no-brainer. "Twice."

Slowly, Vincent nodded. Releasing Sora's hand, he ran a hand through his short black hair, which he had cut after they had arrived in the Destiny Islands. He was wearing that strange expression he always wore when thinking of the best way to explain something important. It was serious, yet bemused at the same time. This time, like every other time he thought of Cloud and Denzel, Vincent's crimson eyes were dulled with a translucent veil of sadness. Several minutes passed before he finally spoke. "Who thanked us for saving the world? Was Aeris returned to us? Was Zack, your father's best friend, returned to him?" Vincent's voice wasn't harsh. It wasn't his way to yell, curse, and carry on like Cid or Barret. Instead, his voice was calm. It was firm, but gentle, leaving no room for argument.

Sora's jaw clenched. He told himself he wasn't going to cry.

He didn't fight when Vincent placed a hand on his head, ruffling his brown hair a little, before letting his hand slide down to Sora's shoulder to pull him close for a reassuring hug. "It's not fair," Vincent told him. "It won't ever be fair. But you have to realize that there are things you _can_ change, and there are things you _can't_ change, and you have to _accept_ that."

Acceptance, Sora knew, was far easier said than done. It was hard to accept that he couldn't change what happened to his father and brother. However, Vincent had been right. No one ever thanked his parents, his uncles, or his aunts for saving the world. Reeve was the only one who ever actually extended his thanks. In some ways, Reeve didn't count, since he helped out, and Reeve was a thankful sort of person anyway.

Had his duties as a Turk not gotten in the way, Sora had a feeling Tseung would have been more open with his gratitude in those days. He wasn't as _friendly_ as Reeve, but he was just as polite.

But Reeve and Tseung were only two people. There were hundreds, thousands, _millions_ of people who knew nothing of the group of heroes who saved the world from Sephiroth and then Deepground. Their names, their faces, and any distinguishable features – Cloud's spiky blond hair, Tifa's killer figure, Barret's gun-arm, Vincent's blood-red attire and claw – were unknown to them, or largely forgotten. These people might have offered their thanks in the privacy of their bedrooms, when they were preparing to go to sleep for the night, but no one could be sure. It was also entirely possible that they might have thought the heroes insane. Even idiots knew better than to oppose Shinra. No one in their right mind would stand up to Sephiroth once, much less twice. No one in possession of a functioning brain would launch an offensive against Deepground and the monsters lurking beneath the ruins of Midgar.

Somehow, Sora knew his parents, aunts and uncles had accepted the fact that, in the end, there was no reward for a job well done. The loved ones they'd lost would never be returned to them.

This visit to the island hadn't exactly fit his definition of "fun," and coming out to his childhood playground to _think_ and wallow in self-pity wasn't high on his list of things to do, but it had been necessary. Vincent's words, which had hounded him day and night for the past two months, had finally begun to sink in. His voice was more than just a voice of reason; it was one of experience.

Sora wondered if age had anything to do with his parents' coming to terms with it all. Had they been able to move on because they were older when they fought their battles than he was when he fought his? Yuffie had been the only member of the group under the age of twenty; she was sixteen, the age Sora was now, when Aeris was killed, when they all fought Sephiroth.

Everyone else had been at least four years older.

Four years did a lot to separate people in their levels of maturity. Yuffie was said to have been an insufferable, hyperactive, thieving brat. Tifa, the next-youngest member of their group at age twenty, had spunk and fire and one hell of an attitude, proof enough that she was still barely a slip of a girl trapped in a woman's body, but she was so much calmer. The differences in the girls' behavior and attitudes were as obvious as night and day. If they were compared with Aeris, who was two years older than Tifa and six years older than Yuffie, the differences in maturity were even more profound.

A year was a lot of time to separate two people as well. Riku was almost a year and a half older than Sora himself. As he thought about it, Sora remembered that his father was barely a year older than his mother. The differences in maturity levels weren't as great between them, but they _were_ there. In a strange twist, though, Riku always seemed to cope with things better than he did, whereas Tifa had always dealt with injustice and the like far better than her husband for a long time.

Upon making this realization, Sora groaned again, mentally kicking himself. "That's what Mom meant when she said I'm Dad's son. I'm more like him than I'm like her."

He was doing what his father had done three years before his birth, what the Cloud he'd left in Radiant Garden had been doing.

_I'm running away. I'm giving up. I'm not moving forward, I'm just sitting here, stuck._

Sora heaved a sigh, closing his eyes with a frown. Disgust etched itself into his young face. "I am such a hypocrite. I tell Dad not to give up, and I can't even follow my own advice."

Sitting up, he watched the sun for a few moments, before determining that he had enough time. Maybe, just maybe, he could visit Radiant Garden. It was highly unlikely that he would see his father there – both the one he'd met on his quest and the one he never knew – or Denzel, but there was a chance he would see Aeris. Even if he never saw the two men he wanted to see most, it would be good to see the flower girl again. Maybe talking to her would help him feel better, even if just a little.

It was worth a try.

Almost instantly, Sora began to doubt himself. He didn't have a gummi ship. He wasn't sure if he could still summon the Keyblade. Could he still go, even without those things?

"Ah," he growled. "I'll just have to try anyway."

The cliff was not an ideal place for a Gate to suddenly appear before him. The danger of falling over the edge was too great. Also, the Gates were huge, and his family and friends would be able to see the Gate from their street if he stayed where he was on the highest point on the island. Sora didn't want anyone to see this otherworldly portal. They already knew he was holding the same pity-party his father held close to twenty years ago. They didn't have to know he was visiting another world; they would think Sora was going on another quest that would keep him away from home for an indefinite period of time, rather than for an hour or two.

If he stayed in Radiant Garden longer than he intended, Sora hoped that if his mother found out, she would be as understanding as she had been when he came home. Visiting with friends wasn't exactly saving the worlds, but there was merit to that too, wasn't there?

Stretching, he brushed the dust off the seat of his pants and the back of his shirt and began walking down the path that would lead him back down to the water's edge. The hill, Sora thought, would block the Gate from the view of anyone else. It was now a matter of where he wanted to be when the Gate appeared, if it appeared at all.

"Stop it!" he told himself firmly, shaking his head with great vigor as if to dislodge the doubts that persisted in relentlessly plaguing his mind. With a tenacity he had not felt since the fight with Xemnas, Sora stared at the setting sun and the way it seemed to make the ocean waters burst into flame. "The Gate _will_ appear. Aeris said I could come back at any time to visit."

And then, almost sadly, Sora averted his gaze to stare at his feet. "I _want_ to go to Radiant Garden. I want to see how Aeris and Merlin are doing."

The words were barely out of his mouth when his senses were assaulted by the sudden appearance of the Keyblade in his right hand. The feel of the unusual weapon and the chink it made were sensations he'd experienced in dreams. Sora's nights were overrun with dreams – _memories _– about his adventures and the people he'd met. In those dreams, he saw his weapon, but it always vanished with the nighttime when the dawn finally came, and he knew that what he'd just experienced hadn't been real. But now, he was awake, and there, in his hand, was the Keyblade. He could _see _it, he could _feel_ the leather grip on the handle and the weight of the weapon as he lifted it.

_It was real._

His awe and amazement were quickly replaced by curiosity and anticipation when a Gate in the familiar shape of a keyhole appeared in the hillside behind him. It was like Riku's discovery of the Corridor of Darkness in the Secret Place when they were little. However, instead of leading into the darkness, Sora knew that he would soon find himself in Radiant Garden, a place that darkness could no longer reach. It was a world he had helped restore and defend.

Sighing nervously, Sora stared at the gate for a long while, contemplating whether or not he should actually go to Radiant Garden.

_But I want to go,_ he asserted. _I want to go._

With much trepidation, he took his first step toward the Gate.

Every one of the ten steps Sora took seemed sluggish, yet fluid, as if he were moving in slow motion or walking around on the moon's surface. Every step inspired a question to which he had no answer.

_Will Dad be there?_

…_I don't know._

_Will Denzel be there?_

…_I don't know._

_Will Squall be there?_

…_I don't know._

_Will the king be there?_

…_I don't know._

_Will Donald and Goofy be there?_

…_I don't know._

_Will I see anyone I know besides Aeris and Merlin?_

…_I don't know._

_Is everything still okay in Radiant Garden?_

…_I don't know._

_Will I have to fight again?_

…_I don't know._

_Will I get the answers I want?_

…_I don't know._

As he took the tenth and final step, however, Sora found he had an answer to one of his questions after all. In realizing this, the teenager couldn't help but smile broadly, the way he used to smile before he left Radiant Garden over a year ago. There were many things he didn't know. That unknown factor, what he'd heard Vincent, Tseung, Rufus, Reeve, Cid, Shera and Nanaki refer to as the "x-variable," was something that inspired fear and anticipation in people. It was something unknown, without a guarantee, that one thing that simply could not be controlled.

That unknown scared him.

But it need not scare him any longer.

_Will I be okay with everything, when all is said and done?_

Sora actually laughed as the light of the Gate surrounded him. The sensation of walking through the Gate was warm, tingly, soft, and gentle, like being submerged in warm carbonated water. Its familiarity soothed the boy. He felt his fears wash away. And it was then that he finally knew the answer to the tenth and last question he'd asked himself before crossing the threshold.

_Yeah, I will._

No matter what happened in Radiant Garden, no matter what he found out or was denied, Sora knew he would be okay. Like Vincent said, it would never be fair, but he had to accept that there were things he could change and there were things he couldn't change. His uncle's words had reminded him then of a little prayer his mother passed on to him soon after his return, when he began moping about. It was that prayer, the "Serenity Prayer," that he now began to recite in his mind.

_God,_ he thought hesitantly, _grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference._

Even if he couldn't be reunited with his father or with Denzel, Sora was okay with that. Sometimes, things just had to happen a certain way. He had accomplished something already in warning the younger versions of his parents to be careful. He'd been given a chance to meet the father he'd never gotten to know.

Closing his eyes, Sora breathed deeply to steady his heart and clear his mind.

He couldn't have everything. It was a lesson he had learned well on his quest and subsequently forgotten. He was deeply ashamed of himself for having forgotten something so important. What kind of person was he if he could forget something like that as easily as he had? What did this say about the person he might become as he grew older? As far as he was concerned, it said a lot, and none of it was good.

The soft, tingly warmth left him, and when he opened his eyes, Sora saw that he was in the main center of town, at the edge of Market Square.

He was in Radiant Garden once again.

* * *

**24 March 2009**

Hello readers! My apologies for the wait. I honestly don't mean to go so long between updates. The next chapter should be coming up within the next month, and then I'll be taking a bit of a break so Aodh (my muse) won't burn out on me and to refresh my memory a little. I won't go seven months without an update this time, I promise.

This chapter (and the next) have a focus on Sora. Fellow _Kingdom Hearts _fans, I realize Sora is very much out of character until the end here, when he has his epiphany, but there is a reason for that. I've discussed his characterization with my betas, and they think his melancholia is appropriate and justified. As for the Gates and the lack of a Gummi ship...well, I'll explain that later in the story. ;)

Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed, and many, many thanks to my wonderful betas, Shard and Ritsu-san! See you in Chapter 07!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 07**

The small, cluttered house Merlin called home was uncharacteristically calm when Zack walked through the front door. Potions weren't boiling over, new spells weren't exploding in the old wizard's face, and the first aid kit was still in the bookshelf. Glancing between the two figures seated at different tables on opposite ends of the room, he raised an eyebrow while heaving a mental sigh of relief. For once he wouldn't have to yell at the crazy old coot for putting his wife in danger – despite the fact that Aerith was fully capable of taking care of herself. "You finally decided to take a day off from blowing yourself up, old man?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence.

In the far corner, Merlin huffed. Zack's unconventional greeting, loud and exuberant as always, had not startled him, but it touched upon two things Merlin was sensitive about: his age and his tendency to turn his house into a pyrotechnician's worst nightmare. Glaring at Zack over his massive encyclopedia, he puffed up in annoyance. "Did your mother ever teach you manners, Zachary?" he grumbled.

Zack grinned brightly, his amusement shining in his eyes. "She tried. She failed."

In the chair by the window, a copy of _The Mists of Avalon_ in her hands, Aerith giggled. "I think you choose to conveniently forget, sweetheart," she said.

"Hey!" he protested, "just whose side are you on, anyway?"

His wife rolled her eyes as her giggling turned into laughter. She shook her head after a while to clear the near-overdose of euphoria away. Zack took this as a sign that today was a good day, which sent waves of relief through his person. If today had been a bad day, there would've been hell to pay for his teasing. Another sign that today was one of her good days came when she held her hand out, and Zack was at her side in an instant, ready to help her to her feet. His dutiful attention encouraged another round of giggles, causing the smile on his face to broaden into a grin. "Sora is coming to visit," she informed him when her laughter was finally under control. "I'm going to open a Gate for him in an hour."

He paused, furrowing his brow in a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Okay…?" There was an edge to his voice that he'd never been able to hide whenever anything concerned Aerith. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of her opening a Gate for the third time today. It bothered him enough that she was allowed to open Gates at all right now. The way he saw it, Merlin should be the one opening Gates in Radiant Garden, not Aerith. Donald opened all the rest; it wouldn't kill Merlin to open a couple every day.

"A good host always escorts his guests to and from his house, Zachary," Merlin said blandly, voice slightly muffled by the wall of a book behind which he'd hidden himself to give Zack and Aerith some semblance of privacy. His face wasn't visible, but Zack was positive the wizard had x-ray vision; he could feel Merlin's spectacled gaze on him through the pages and cover of the book.

_A good host always escorts his guests? Who the hell does _that_ these days?_ Zack quirked his eyebrow again, curiosity and concern giving way to utter confusion while he entertained the idea that maybe Merlin had finally fallen off his rocker, gone senile, or both. Given Merlin's supposed age – _Just how old is that old guy anyway?_ – any of the three scenarios were entirely possible. "Uh, Merlin," he said, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly and turning away from Aerith for a moment, "we're about a thousand years ahead of when you were teaching Arthur. Besides, the kid can take care of himself, can't he?"

His wife decided the moment was perfect to step in and side with Merlin. "Be that as it may, Zachary, you should still meet him at the Gate when I open it. Sora doesn't know where _we_ live."

Conceding defeat was always a smart decision when one's wife has a habit of pointing out the obvious – and that which he hadn't thought of. Zack waved the proverbial white flag by way of smiling in resignation. "Okay, okay, I'll pick him up. But first," he added, grasping her small, bare hands in his larger, gloved ones and he pulled her to her feet as carefully as he could, "I'm walking you home, Aerith."

In the corner, still hiding behind the ancient tome in which he'd buried his nose, Merlin pretended to cough. "I thought you believed such behavior to be backward, Zachary."

Zack laughed outright. "I said that escorting guests to one's home is backward, especially when the guests already know their way around town. Walking one's wife home is something every man should do, without question."

"You have a strange sense of honor and chivalry, my boy."

This time, Aerith came to Zack's rescue. "I think the world needs more men like Zack," she said with conviction. "We'd all be better for it."

Zack fought the urge to laugh again while Merlin sputtered behind his book. Instead, he chose to grin like a fool as he followed Aerith out of the house. Only when they were in the Market Square did he finally allow himself to laugh. "I have never seen him so flustered!" Zack crowed, nearly walking into the green grocer's stall. He was laughing so hard that tears rolled down his face, and he found it hard to breathe properly. He allowed Aerith to stop him so he could get hold of himself before he asphyxiated or found another way to kill himself.

When Aerith ceased rubbing his back after a few minutes, Zack coughed a couple times to clear his throat and stood upright. "That's the best laugh I've ever had at that old coot's expense," he snickered as they resumed their journey home. He felt good today, better than usual, though he wondered how that was possible because he felt good about eighty percent of the time. He shrugged it off almost as soon as he thought about it. There were a lot of good things in his life right now. Of _course_ he'd feel good!

Beside him, Aerith laughed a little. "He wouldn't have left you alone if I hadn't said anything."

Zack gaped at her in feigned disbelief. "You mean you didn't mean what you said?" He slipped in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Then, trying his best to ignore his wife's laughter, he looked at her in mock sternness. "Mrs. Fair, it is imperative that you always speak highly of your wonderful, handsome, and most honorable husband, and therefore protect him from the Wizard Merlin's scathing commentary." He cracked a lopsided grin for good measure.

His jesting had its intended effect, and Aerith began to laugh as uncontrollably as he had just a moment ago. "Oh you!" she gasped and swatted Zack's arm. "You are such a goof!"

He grinned brightly. "I try," he laughed before he leaned down to softly kiss her forehead. Pulling away, Zack wrapped an arm around his wife's waist and they continued on their way. "So what's this kid like?"

Aerith glanced at him with a sly smile. "He reminds me a lot of his parents. He also reminds me of someone else."

Zack pretended to ignore the pointed look she sent him, but a furious blush rose in his cheeks. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he asserted too quickly. When she began to giggle again, his blush darkened even more. "What? How could he be like me? He's not ours, and I've never met him. Besides, according to that freaky parallel universe stuff you and Merlin are on about, technically, this Sora's parents aren't the Cloud and Tifa we – "

She cut him off with a quick kiss. "You'll see when you meet him."

He huffed, and Aerith continued to laugh at him. "You're adorable when you're impatient," she quipped as they rounded the corner and began walking up their street.

The burning in his cheeks dissipated as he gently pulled her closer. "And you are _radiant_," he murmured to her meaningfully, placing extra emphasis on "radiant." Zack leaned his head away just enough so as to catch a glimpse of her face. Just as he suspected, a very attractive shade of pink had risen in his wife's cheeks, and he grinned at her just as they reached the white picket fence bordering their yard. Aerith was having a hard time believing him when he said things like that lately, but he knew it pleased and reassured her when he did. The blushes and shy smiles he received, reminiscent of the girl she'd been when they first met, were so out of character for the woman she'd become. However, he considered them signs he was doing _something_ right.

From what he'd heard over the years, one could never have too many brownie points.

Stepping in front of her, he opened the gate, allowing her to pass before he rushed ahead to unlock and open the front door for her. Once inside the quiet and comfort of their house, Zack breathed deeply. It felt so _good_ to be home, even if for a few minutes before he had to leave again.

He looked down when something pressed against his lower leg. "Hey Pest," he said lightly, bending down to scoop the cat into his arms. The little animal, a grey shorthair with a white blaze, bib, and mittens, purred loudly and nuzzled Zack's face happily. "I missed you too," he laughed. "Where's your brother?"

"Sterling's in here," Aerith called from the den. "Would you mind feeding them, Zack?"

"Sure." Zack carried Pest into the den, where he found Aerith relaxing on the couch, a blue-cream tabby snuggled contentedly in her arms. Setting Pest down on the couch next to her, Zack watched the way the cat interacted with her before moving on to sniff noses with Sterling. Despite being littermates, the two cats looked astonishingly different. They even behaved differently from one another. Without question, exuberant Pest was Zack's cat, whereas the quieter Sterling preferred Aerith's company. It was something that Zack always found interesting, and it made him wonder about a lot of things.

Leaving the cats with Aerith, Zack went to the pantry and removed a can of Friskies. "Come on boys," he called, opening the can as he went. "Dinner!"

He and Aerith laughed when both cats shot away from her in a mad dash to the kitchen. "They must be hungry," she observed.

"I guess," he replied after setting two food dishes, each containing half of the can, in front of each cat. When certain Pest wouldn't live up to his name and torment Sterling, Zack retreated to the den for a few minutes' relaxation. "I'm getting the next few months off, starting right now," he sighed as he took his place next to Aerith on the couch. "The King says I should be with you and the boys for the time being, not that I'm complaining."

She rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. "I certainly don't object," she murmured. Her voice betrayed how tired she was, which was normal, but it still caused him to worry. Was Merlin working her too hard? Was she resting enough?

She seemed to sense his concern. "I'm fine, Zack."

Zack tightened his left arm around her shoulders as he rested his cheek against the top of her head. "I know. I'm still going to worry." He chuckled. "Something tells me this is just the beginning, though."

Aerith laughed with him. "Something tells me you're right." She fell silent, and after a few minutes, Zack wondered if she was beginning to fall asleep. "What would you say if I told you I'm scared?"

He leaned back a little to study her, and sure enough, he could see the fear in her eyes. Seeing that fear reminded him of that first time they'd laid eyes on each other's bared skin so many years ago, before everything went to hell in Nibelheim. They'd been young, inexperienced teenagers when it happened, not the older, wiser, more responsible adults they were now. She'd been scared for other reasons back then, he remembered, fears he'd also shared. _Would it hurt? What if her mother or Shinra found out? What if...?_

Those were the fears of two children on the cusp of adulthood. In the end, it had hurt, yet that didn't make it any less wonderful. It hadn't been _spectacular,_ but he remembered that it hadn't been terrible, either. Their other fears proved unfounded, much to their relief. Her mother probably suspected they'd been intimate even though she never said a word to either of them, Shinra was largely clueless – if Tseng and the other Turks knew anything, they didn't report it – and nothing happened that they would've regretted later.

What scared her now was so similar, yet so very, very different.

Though he hated it when things like this frightened her, as it made him feel helpless even though he understood _why_, he felt a surge of male pride in knowing that she was turning to him for reassurance and comfort. As strong as she was, she wanted _him_ to chase the monsters away. He couldn't cut these monsters down or hit them with magic. They were too strong for that. However, in the face of honesty and an optimistic, loving heart, the monsters could be shut away until the next time they returned.

A reassuring smile spread across his face. "I'd say it's okay." He kissed her hair before returning to his earlier position. "I'm scared too, but everything will be okay, alright? Nothing's going to go wrong."

She snuggled closer, or at least as close as circumstances would allow. "Promise?"

Zack laughed. "Yeah, I promise."

He stayed on the couch with her for a few more minutes until she told him he needed to pick Sora up in the Market Square. He was loathe to get up, to leave her, but it had to be done. "I'll open the gate next to Scrooge's creamery," she said when he was on his feet.

"I'll keep an eye out," he assured her as he leaned down to gently capture her lips with his. "You take it easy, Aerith, okay?"

She reached up to trace the scar on his jaw, a content smile upon her lips. "I'll be here when you get back with Sora."

He returned for a quick kiss. When he leaned away, he regarded her firmly. "I'm holding you to that," he told her. Turning around, he headed to the kitchen and then into the front hallway. "Be back soon! I'll take the boys with me if they want to go!" he called as he opened the door. She reminded him to be careful just before he shut the door on his way out. _Be careful indeed,_ he thought, his right hand going to the sword at his hip. Though Heartless and Nobodies no longer ran rampant in Radiant Garden, it never hurt to be prepared. Sighing, Zack stepped off the front porch and made his way through the gate.

The trip back to the Market Square was boring, given that he had to pass so many houses that were different variations on the same design. The monotony was broken only by those yards whose boundaries were unmarked by any sort of fencing and the children who played kickball in the street every evening since school let out for the summer. Zack was grateful that it was a short walk, and an even shorter run, yet he took his time, watching the neighborhood children as they played. He smiled when he spied three familiar heads of silver hair and waved when they called to him.

"Daddy! Daddy! Come play with us!" the youngest of the three cried excitedly when Zack stopped to let a car pass before he crossed the street. His short, somewhat shaggy silver hair was mussed from racing around with his friends.

_I'm only twenty-six, and I've already got three kids, none of which are actually the result of being with Aerith,_ he thought in amusement while the three silver-haired children raced up to him, abandoning their friends and their game. "I can't right now, Kadaj," he said, kneeling down to let the youngest child clamber onto his back. "Mom wants me to pick someone up at the market."

"Can I come too?" Kadaj asked, unable to conceal his eagerness.

Zack laughed and began walking. "I suppose. Yazoo, Loz, you coming?"

Yazoo, whose hair was even shaggier than his little brother's, nodded, his eyes shining as brightly with excitement as Kadaj's, and he jogged after them. Loz, the oldest of the trio and the only one whose hair was kept in a buzz cut, shook his head and started walking back to the other kids. "I wanna stay and play with Kyle and the others."

"Okay," Zack conceded. "I want you to head home in twenty minutes. Keep an eye on your watch."

"Yes sir."

They parted ways, and Zack spent the rest of the walk in a deep discussion about kickball with the younger boys until they reached their destination. After he set Kadaj down, he immediately handed Yazoo a wad of money. Understanding filled the seven-year-old's eyes, and he grabbed his little brother's hand, dragging him off in the direction of the candy shoppe. Zack laughed to himself; he would see his boys soon enough, but not until they'd purchased enough candy to send the mighty Hercules into diabetic shock. That would give him plenty of time to watch for Sora.

Leaning against the stucco wall of Scrooge McDuck's ice cream shop, Zack became lost in his thoughts regarding his wife's young friend – their best friend's _son_ – and the probability that the Gate would open close to the creamery just as she claimed. Aerith was usually accurate when it came to opening Gates, but there had been some slip-ups lately. Zack never placed the blame on her if he wound up on the other side of town instead of in Market Square or near Merlin's house. He understood the reason for the mistakes and took care to never mention them. This was a concept Merlin had not yet learned.

_Zack one, wizard zero._

Smirking with just a hint of arrogance, Zack returned his thoughts to the kid he was waiting for. He'd caught glimpses of Sora in the past, but he'd been so busy chasing the Heartless, then the Nobodies, and finally, Deepground, away from Gaia and his wife's church, in addition to his other work, that he hadn't had an opportunity to really _watch_ Cloud's son and study him. Glimpses only told him that Sora _looked_ like his parents. They couldn't tell him just how much Sora truly resembled his father, nor did they indicate how similar Sora was to his mother. What was Sora's personality like? Was he more like Tifa, or did they have a brooding mini-Cloud on their hands?

"Ancients help us if he is," Zack muttered. "I just might hit him if he pulls a Cloud on us." Teenager or not, Zack felt he had no patience left for brooders after watching the Cloud he had known beat himself up for two years. He was not going to put up with the same garbage from some kid he didn't know, even if that kid technically _was _his best friend's son. Privately, Zack hoped Sora was more like Tifa. Tifa could mope around and worry with the best of them, but she always did her best to focus on something else. Still, he reminded himself that this Sora's parents weren't the Cloud and Tifa he and Aerith had known. None of the people this Sora knew – Tseng, Reno, Rude, and Cissnei – were like the people he'd known when he was still "alive" by the rules that governed life on Gaia. As Merlin explained once, the timeline Sora came from was an experiment of sorts; a giant "what-if" scenario. What happened to Cloud in that timeline most likely would not happen if he heeded Sora's warning. Though he hadn't been there to hear it himself, Zack learned of it from Aerith and Squall after Cloud, Tifa, and the others returned home.

The concept was disgusting. It was something Zack found unacceptable and dishonorable. No one, not even a higher being, had any right to play around with a person's life like that. Despite his conviction, he sometimes wondered how different things might've been if he and Aerith hadn't died. How would that final battle have turned out? What sort of life would he and Aerith be living? Would Cloud have attempted to protect his family by way of isolating himself from them?

It was impossible to tell.

A bright flash of white directly beside the creamery caught Zack's attention just as his sons returned from their adventures in the candy shoppe. Everything he'd been thinking about was forgotten in an instant. He watched in anticipation as Sora emerged from the portal, legs bent at the knees and toes pointing downward as if he was somehow suspended in midair. The light faded, and Sora's feet touched the concrete of the sidewalk, but Zack didn't approach him straight away, nor did he allow his sons to leave his side. He wanted to let Sora get his bearings first. He also wanted to avoid getting a Keyblade in his gut. Masamune and her master were a deadly duo, but Zack felt he would much rather be disemboweled by a blade that would slice through bodily tissues as opposed to tearing through them.

Zack almost pitied the Heartless and the Nobodies who had been cut down by the Keyblade. _Almost._

Narrowing his eyes, Zack gave Sora a quick once-over, making mental notes which he filed away for later. Though he wasn't a true carbon-copy of Cloud, Sora did have his father's look. He was lankier than his father, Zack thought, with a musculature that was more cordlike than bulky from a life that did not involve the army, and by default, SOLDIER. He also appeared to be taller than Cloud, but as he'd never had contact with Sora until now, Zack knew his judgment would be inaccurate until Aerith saw him. Given time, exercise, and plenty of food, Sora would fill out. Right now, though, he was just an ordinary kid who did the things ordinary kids do – he went to school, he had homework, he hung out with his friends, and he had a crush. Despite the extraordinary things he had done already in his young life, Sora was experiencing the things and living the life Zack and Cloud had given up.

Zack laughed to himself as he continued to watch Sora. _I have to admit, I'm kinda jealous of this kid._

Somehow, he felt that Sora wouldn't find his jealousy all that amusing. The look on the kid's face was relaxed and happy as he opened his eyes, but Zack thought he saw a trace of anger – _Or is that sadness?_ – in Sora's otherwise bright and eager face.

Deciding that he would worry about it later, Zack shrugged everything he'd been thinking of away as though it were water. Sora was looking around. Unless he wanted to chase Cloud's kid all over town, now was the best time to make his presence known. Of course, he would keep his distance all the same. It all boiled down to his desire to keep his innards where they belonged. He wanted Kadaj and Yazoo to remain in one piece as well. "You two stay here," he said firmly, keeping his voice low. Only when he heard them both agree to do as they were told did he turn toward Sora.

"Sora, right?" he asked when he was close enough to catch Sora's attention without attracting the attention of everyone else around them, yet far enough away to avoid injury if Sora swung at him with the oddly-shaped weapon he carried.

Sora's head snapped in his direction and Zack watched him move into a defensive position. Behind him, Zack heard Yazoo yell in alarm while Kadaj started crying. Rather than reach for the Claymore hanging from his belt, as it would probably scare Kadaj and Yazoo more than they already were, Zack held one of his hands out in front of him like a police officer stopping traffic. "Whoa, kiddo, chill." He kept his voice calm and steady, hoping that he could ease his sons' shared fear and placate Sora at the same time. He didn't want to use Aerith's name as a shield, but if push came to shove, he would. He did not want to get into a fight in front of his boys. It would scar them for life if they had to watch him either get hurt or hurt someone else.

Much to Zack's immense relief, Sora lowered the Keyblade, though he was still on his guard.

_I suppose I can't fault him for it,_ Zack reminded himself. _I don't think that ever goes away._ Giving a mental shrug, he cracked a lopsided smile while motioning for Kadaj and Yazoo to come to him. "The name's Zack Fair. This is Kadaj, and this is his big brother Yazoo." His lopsided smile morphed into a broad, happy grin when recognition and shock flickered across Sora's face. "Why don't you come with us? Aerith said you're here to talk."

"Yeah, sure." Sora twirled the Keyblade twice in a fashion very familiar to Zack before finally sending it away. "So you're Dad's friend and Aerith's boyfriend, right?" Sora asked him when he closed the distance Zack had kept between them. Zack noticed that Sora was ignoring the boys, who were keeping their distance from the scary person who'd held a sword up to their father. He wondered if the boys were wrong to fear Sora for having a natural warrior's reaction to a potentially life-threatening situation. Ultimately, he decided they weren't wrong to be afraid.

All the same, they needed to see that there was nothing to fear. He still had to try to get to know this kid while he still had his attention.

"Well," he began, chuckling as he turned and led the way to his home, his boys clinging to him like Velcro, "you're partially right about my relationship with Aerith. We've been married for just about two years, actually." Zack's nervous chuckling dissolved into full-blown laughter when he looked over at Sora and saw that the kid's eyes were practically bugging out of his head. At his hips, Kadaj and Yazoo stared at him in confusion. Neither understood what was so funny.

Sora recovered quickly, and he wasn't amused that he was being laughed at. "How come I never saw you when I was here?"

Zack shrugged after he managed to regain his composure. "It's the nature of my work," he answered cryptically. Only Aerith, Merlin, and King Mickey knew what his job responsibilities were, and it was to remain a secret at all costs. Zack didn't particularly _enjoy_ keeping secrets, but if it meant what the king and the old wizard had been hinting at ever since his arrival in Radiant Garden, he was going to keep his mouth shut. Rather than elaborate, Zack flashed an easy-going grin. "But I don't have to work right now. I get to be lazy for a few months, just like you."

Beside him, Sora snorted derisively. "Must be nice," he said, sarcasm dripping from his words like venom.

Zack dropped the grin as he raised an eyebrow. "It is, actually. I get to stay home with my wife and kids and be a normal guy, which I wasn't able to do before I died and for a while after. I take it you think you have some unfinished business?"

"That what I want to talk to Aerith about."

_Ancients help me, and Cloud, I'm sorry. I think I'm going to hit your kid after all._ As soon as he finished the thought, Zack shook his head. It was unlike him to feel so…hostile? Defensive? He felt it, whichever word fit best, because of being so protective of Aerith. Granted, he was being a bit over-protective, which annoyed Aerith to no end, but he couldn't help it. He wanted her to be safe and happy, not in danger and upset. Any man in his position would act as he did, wouldn't they?

As insurance, for Sora's sake as much as his own, Zack changed the subject. "You know the Turks, right?"

From the corner of his eye, he saw Sora blink in surprise. "Uh, yeah. Tseng, Reno, Rude, Elena, and Cissnei, right?"

"They're the ones."

"What about them?"

Zack sighed dramatically when he stopped in front of the white picket fence surrounding his yard. "Boys, go inside and tell your mother we're home, and make sure Loz is in the house." He watched Kadaj and Yazoo take off toward the front door, then stared at the gate. Silently, he prayed for strength and patience. It was growing increasingly difficult to refrain from decking Sora squarely in the jaw. "They're still my friends, especially Tseng and Cissnei." He turned to look at Sora, who had been looking around the residential area, a nice area on the outskirts of town. When Sora faced him, Zack's eyes softened as his memories took him back to the times he'd spent in the company of the Turks. He just had to know. "How are they doing?"

Sora shrugged, the gesture either noncommittal or one expressing relative disinterest. "They're doing good."

_An answer typical of a teenager. I really hope I wasn't that bad when I was his age._ Zack shook his head. "Did any of them start families?"

For a moment, Zack thought Sora wasn't going to answer him, until the kid shrugged again. "Yeah. Reno and Cissnei got married right after Meteor. They have a son named Carson. He's three years older than me, and he looks like Reno. Their daughter, Carlin, is my age, but she looks more like Cissnei." Sora finally cracked a smile, a sign that he was very attached to Reno, Cissnei, and their family. The smile remained as Sora continued speaking. "Tseng married Elena after Deepground, like Mom and Dad, and they've got two kids, fraternal twins. The son's name is Ken, and their daughter's name is Faina."

The news brought a genuinely happy smile to Zack's face. _Looks like the Tseng and Ciss this Sora knows took the advice the other me gave them after all,_ he thought delightedly, albeit with a pang of bitterness. All this stuff about parallel timelines that had Aerith and Merlin so worked up, combined with this new information Sora revealed, made him feel cheated. He wanted to see his other two best friends' kids. He also wondered if the Turks he'd known were leading different lives than the Turks Sora knew. For years, he'd been convinced that if Tseng found the right woman and had kids, he'd be a great father, not to mention his kids would be beautiful. As Zack recalled, Tseng had been rather embarrassed when he'd been informed of this. He couldn't remember the words they'd exchanged that evening at the local watering hole in Costa Del Sol while they were on vacation. He just remembered his own voice saying something about kids and Tseng's face turning an interesting shade of pink. Perhaps this Elena had been just what the doctor ordered.

The exchange with Cissnei was easier to remember, as it occurred when they were leaving the Shinra building. Zack had been sober then, as opposed to being exceptionally drunk during his conversation with Tseng. One of the things he remembered most about talking with Cissnei was the way she laughed him off. "Ciss, I'm serious," Zack remembered telling her. "You and Reno have something going between you. You should act on it and tell him, or I'll tell him for you."

His petite friend had stared at him pointedly. "And do what, Zack? 'Once a Turk, always a Turk,' remember? I couldn't leave even if I wanted to."

"That may be the case, but I still think you should tell him." He'd given Cissnei his most charming grin, the one he only used with her, the girl he had come to love as the sister he'd never had in the time he'd known her. "You and Reno would have beautiful kids, by the way, if you ever got together."

"Zack!" she'd hissed, either horribly embarrassed or very annoyed. It was hard to tell with her. Zack laughed and waved her off as he headed for the train station so that he could catch a train to Sector 5 and visit Aerith.

Though he knew the Tseng and Cissnei that Sora knew were different from the people he'd known, Zack couldn't bear to smother the feelings of happiness he was feeling. There were no guarantees, but if the Tseng and Cissnei from this Sora's life had found love and happiness with their colleagues, the same was possible for the ones he'd known. _I'll have to ask Cloud about them next time he visits the church,_ he told himself. He wouldn't explain the true motivation for his questions; he would use his interest in knowing how his other friends were as an excuse. He could only hope that Cloud would buy it, or, at the very least, humor his request.

A thought occurred to him. "What about Rude?" he asked as he stepped inside the gate. Once Sora was through, he closed the gate and led the way to the backyard.

"Rude married one of the women working at Rufus and Reeve's research company, Mariah, the PR director." Sora replied behind him. Zack could hear the awe in his voice and knew he was looking around at the landscaping. Having had a hand in the way the gardens were laid out and arranged, Zack didn't pay his property any mind unless he out working on it with Aerith or playing with the boys. It didn't interest him as much as it did Sora, even if the kid's interest did give his ego a boost. He had other things that interested him on his mind.

"Any kids?" he pressed.

"They have a couple foster kids, but none of their own."

Zack only continued to smile. "Always knew Rude could be a softie if he had the chance."

Sora made a strange noise, somewhere between a snort, a huff, and a laugh. "He's so strict, he makes Tseng and Vincent look like Reno, Barret and Cid."

Despite his not knowing Vincent Valentine, Barret Wallace, or Cid Highwind, only having seen the three men a few times when they'd been in Aerith's church, Zack did know Tseng. The mental image of his stern friend acting like his wild man of a subordinate was entertaining to say the least. One simply did not expect Tseng to act so…_relaxed._

Zack led Sora inside the screened-in porch and looked around the yard for his wife. When he didn't see her, he went to the back door and poked his head inside the house. "Back, Pest," he growled as he shooed the little animal away from the door. "Aerith?"

"In the kitchen!" she called back. "Could you give the boys a hand, Zack?"

Glancing at Sora for the briefest of seconds, Zack nodded. "You bet." He slipped inside and immediately took the pitcher of lemonade Yazoo was struggling with, handing him three tall glasses instead. As he did this, he kept a watchful eye on little Kadaj, who carried a small tray of sandwiches and fruit salad. Loz took the pitcher without complaint and followed his younger brothers to the back door. "You need to take it easy," he reprimanded her when the boys had gone outside with their loads, placing a quick kiss on her mouth.

Aerith giggled against his lips, and when he pulled away, she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Making lemonade is hardly stressful, Zachary. I had plenty of help," she added, referring to the boys. Zack sighed in defeat and decided against arguing with her. Aerith was a stubborn woman. Once her mind was set on something, it was nearly impossible to divert her attentions elsewhere. Instead, he chose to emasculate himself and beg; Aerith was unable to resist the puppy eyes whenever he turned them on her.

Before he let her through the door, he gazed at her pleadingly. "Aerith, please, take it easy. Let me and the boys take over."

Aerith frowned a little, as she hated being treated like an invalid. Privately, Zack hoped he'd already scored enough brownie points to enable himself to get away with it. All the same, he carefully schooled his features into a pout he knew Aerith thought was irresistibly cute. With any luck, she would cave.

The pout worked. With a reluctant sigh, Aerith lowered her gaze and nodded. "Okay, Zack. If it will keep you from worrying, I will."

He carefully leaned forward to kiss her temple to both reassure and apologize to her. "I won't ever stop worrying. I'd be a bad husband if I didn't care enough to worry about my wife." He balanced the tray of drinks on his left arm while he held the door for her, shooing the cats away in the process. "You should just let me pamper you like a princess. I think you'd enjoy it."

She shook her head with a laugh, her displeasure over having to do less than what she was used to quickly forgotten. "You pamper me enough as it is! You've even got the boys in on it!"

From the corner of his eye, Zack saw Sora perk up when he heard Aerith chastise him. "What happened to the world needing more guys like me?"

"I still think the world needs more men like you, but sometimes I think you overdo it." She smiled up at him as she stepped through the door, and he couldn't help leaning forward for a soft, lingering kiss once he'd pulled the door shut. When he backed away, Aerith chuckled. "You're not forgiven," she teased him. She turned around to face Sora, who stood up from his seat at the table to help the three boys with the refreshments. "Hello, Sora. It's good to see you again."

Sora could only stammer in a mix of nervousness and surprise. "C-congratulations," the kid finally blurted, his wide eyes locked on Aerith. Despite finding it hard to hold back on the laughter threatening to escape him, Zack restrained himself. The stories about Sora not being as quick to pick up on things as his friend Riku were true, after all. Merlin hadn't been lying. To avoid giving into his mirth, he averted his eyes for a moment, watching his boys as they played tag in the yard. Satisfied that they weren't getting into some form of trouble, he returned his attention to his wife and their guest.

He couldn't see the smile on her face as her hand came up to rest over her stomach, but he could hear it in her voice. "Thank you, Sora." He stepped back a little when she waved Sora over, and when he was close enough, she reached up to hug him affectionately. The last time Aerith had seen Sora, he had been close to her height, but he had grown a lot since then, and he was now a head taller than she was, if not more. "Everyone is fine," she whispered softly when Sora returned the embrace with an obvious degree of awkwardness. "You don't have to worry."

"Thanks," Sora murmured. Zack watched the way his eyes searched Aerith's for something, anything. However, Aerith was rather good at hiding things behind a carefully-constructed mask, and she was hiding whatever answers Sora was looking for. She even refused to show the relief she felt when Sora finally gave up. Like Zack, she had a lot riding on her ability to keep secrets. If Sora noticed anything, if either of them slipped up, everything – their life in Radiant Garden, the boys, their baby, and so much more – would be lost. They would return to the Lifestream, where they would eventually merge with all that came before, then into nothing. They wouldn't get another chance to _live_ and _give life_ again. It weighed upon their minds like a burden on their shoulders.

Releasing the boy she'd come to love as a younger brother, she gestured to the table, an unspoken request that they all sit down. Even if their situation gnawed at the back of her mind, now was not the time to focus her thoughts on it. Sora returned to his seat while Zack pulled one of the chairs out for her before taking the seat across from Sora. Thanking her husband with a soft and secret smile, Aerith stole a glance at Sora from the corner of her eye as he accepted the food Zack passed to him, noting how he had changed in the past year.

She didn't like what she saw.

He was taller, a little broader, and she swore he looked more like his father every time she saw him. How he'd gotten so tall – he was almost as tall as Zack – was a mystery to her, as Cloud and Tifa were of average height. Still, these changes were to be expected. They were natural. If Sora hadn't shown signs of physical growth, Aerith knew he wouldn't be sitting next to her on her back porch. Tifa wouldn't have let him out of the house except to take him to the hospital. Physically, Sora was fine, and Aerith was happy to see that he was in good health.

Mentally and emotionally, however, Sora was little more than an emaciated shell of the boy she once knew. His eyes, which were normally bright and clear, were dulled. The fire that once blazed there was but a candle, a tiny flame that could easily be snuffed out. His face seemed to have been molded into a perpetual scowl. It seemed as though Sora had completely forgotten how wonderful it felt to smile. His posture lacked that air of enthusiasm and confidence that everyone in their group had grown to know so well when they were fighting together.

These were the changes that Aerith never dreamed she'd ever see in Sora. The Sora before her now was the antithesis of the one to whom she'd said good-bye nearly two years ago.

She wished her hormones weren't so out of control, for she suddenly felt like crying, and she couldn't recall a time when something unrelated to losing Zack saddened her this much.

There _was_ something, though, that gave her hope.

Sora's eyes were dulled, but they weren't lifeless. The fire was weakened, yet it still burned, and as she watched, Aerith could see that it was slowly growing. It seemed he'd figured some things out on his own, and without having to fight. However, it also seemed that he'd taken a rather long time to make such realizations, just like someone else they all knew in varying degrees of familiarity.

_He really is his father's son,_ she thought to herself with a tiny smile. _I doubt Cloud would be pleased to know just how much Sora acts like him._

"So, uh," Sora began nervously, "when…?"

Aerith chuckled lightly, and she could see Zack's face begin to redden. It never ceased to amuse – and annoy – her just how uncomfortable men were when it came to inquiring about the impending arrival of a baby. Still, she was proud of Sora for initiating conversation, as well as for choosing a relatively safe topic, in this case, her due date. "In around four months, toward the end of December or in early January." She shifted her gaze from Sora to look at Zack fondly. "We're very excited."

She heard Sora laugh nervously, and when she returned her gaze to him, she delighted in seeing a small, genuine smile on his face as he looked between her and Zack. "You'll make good parents," he told them softly. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"We've decided to wait until it's born," she replied as calmly as possible, but she couldn't completely mask the excitement and anticipation in her voice. She really did want to know, and she knew Zack was anxious to know if he'd fathered a son or a daughter. Part of the fun of having a child, Aerith felt, was in not knowing the sex of the little life developing inside her body until it left her womb. Smiling warmly at Sora, she reached for his hand. His eyes flickered up to meet hers, and she squeezed his hand gently. "It doesn't matter if the baby is a boy or a girl. Zack and I will love him or her with all our hearts."

After a moment, Sora nodded, his eyes shifting to the three boys playing in the yard. "I know you will."

"Now," Aerith said, withdrawing her hand. "It seems you have something to talk about, and I'm very sure it's not about my baby." Her tone was light and carefree, even teasing, and she was smiling, but she added a degree of firmness to her voice so as to let Sora know there would be no more avoiding the real reason he'd returned to Radiant Garden. Though she had an excellent idea just what was bothering her young friend, she wanted to hear it from his own mouth. She knew from experience that a problem was almost always taken care of when someone finally allowed themselves to talk about it.

Sora seemed to have gotten the message. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and his eyes darted left and right, back and forth, over and over for several seconds as he tried to find the right words. Finally, he stilled and looked at Aerith pleadingly. "Should I tell you what I told Vincent?"

Aerith nodded. "What did you tell Vincent?"

Sighing heavily, Sora hesitantly recalled his angry rant. His words lacked the venomous wrath they'd had when Vincent had been his audience, possibly for Aerith's sake, but she could still hear the residual anger, as well as the hurt and bitterness. A quick glance stolen at Zack confirmed her suspicions that he heard it too, and then she returned her focus to their guest. "I saw him in the Coliseum," Sora said, his voice small and helpless, "and I just _knew _it was him from the pictures Mom and everyone else had shown me since I was a little kid. I told myself, 'He's probably just a ghost.' I told myself that ghosts can't be saved.

"It got harder and harder to keep telling myself that, especially after I woke up and came to Hollow Bastion and met up with you guys again. I found something before I left for Mulan's world that had everyone's ages." He blushed furiously and mumbled a quick apology to Aerith before continuing. "It was in Merlin's papers. Leon – Squall – was twenty-one, Yuffie was eighteen, you were twenty-four, and Dad wasn't even twenty-three yet, which meant Reunion hadn't happened."

It was hard to imagine just how confused Sora might have been, but Aerith understood and could appreciate how much of a shock this discovery must have delivered to his system. He'd been expecting his father to be twenty-seven, the age he had been upon his death. Instead, the Cloud he'd fought against, trained with, and gotten to know was four years too young, only seven years older than Sora had been at the time of his discovery. This Cloud wasn't married, and he technically wasn't anyone's father.

Meeting Tifa had to have been even more surprising. At home, the Tifa he'd always known was forty-one. Her age would be starting to show, even though Aerith was sure she was just as beautiful as she had been in her early twenties, but she wasn't the one Sora had met with on his quest. The Tifa he'd met in Radiant Garden last year had been nineteen years younger and was quicker and more agile. If the age Merlin had listed in his records for Cloud hadn't convinced Sora that something was amiss, then seeing a younger version of his mother certainly did.

The discovery had to have been just as heartbreaking.

Sora's gaze darted back and forth between Aerith and Zack again. "That wasn't a ghost I met. It really _was _him, but he was younger, and less scarred. I saved a younger version of my dad, and I know that Dad already got a second chance after…" he trailed off, glancing nervously at the little boy chasing after Loz before lowering his voice, "after Yazoo…shot him three years before I was born, so the chances of getting him back aren't very good. But what about Denzel? Is there a chance Mom and I will ever get him back?" He looked at the boys again, furrowed his brow slightly as though he were trying to wrap his mind around something, then shook his head. It seemed he really was surprised by the boys being in Radiant Garden in spite of his earlier indifference.

Aerith shook her head sadly. She understood Sora's pain, even though she couldn't relate to it; she didn't have any brothers or sisters until she met Cloud, Tifa, and the rest of their party. She had been fortunate enough to have never lost them. Even so, the death of a loved one still hurt, and it was because of this that she understood why Sora felt the way he did. She wished she could tell him something that would bring back the boy he'd been before he went home, but she couldn't. It didn't work that way. "No, Sora. There are rules we must follow. I don't understand why Denzel wasn't given a second chance, but you have to realize that just as there are no third chances, there aren't always second chances." She reached out to touch her young friend's face lovingly, soothingly. Her other hand sought his, and when she found it, she squeezed reassuringly. "I think you've already accepted that you would receive such an answer, haven't you?"

Slowly, he nodded, his eyes lowering until he was staring at the table. "I told myself that I'd be okay with everything, whether I could save Dad and Denzel or not." He raised his eyes to hers again and nodded once. "I mean it."

On her other side, Zack finally spoke up after having been uncharacteristically quiet throughout Sora's monologue. "You look like something else is bothering you, kid."

Aerith glanced at her husband for a lingering moment and looked back at Sora when Zack's firm expression did not dissolve into something more relaxed. Sora fidgeted again, and Aerith noticed that he was watching her with an expression she had never seen on his face. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his mouth set in a grim line. It was an expression Aerith had last seen on Tifa's face, not Cloud's. The look faded when Sora, unable to maintain such a stern mask, returned to his more characteristic look of curiosity. "Riku said you and Merlin have this theory about Radiant Garden. 'Time is irrelevant, yet essential.' Mom, Dad, Yuffie, and Squall didn't move anywhere – backwards or forward – in time, but Riku, Kairi and me went backwards. I've come backward again, haven't I?"

From the corner of her eye, Aerith saw Zack's face break into a grin, and she also couldn't help but smile proudly. Though hardly as clever as Riku, Sora was an intelligent young man capable to putting two and two together. But she would not answer his question just yet. There was still more he wasn't telling her, and she wanted to know everything Sora had thought about in the last year and a half. "Is this something you figured out on your own, or with Riku's help?"

"We all sort of figured it out together. Riku, Kairi and I sat on Riku's front porch and went over his notes that he took while talking to you and Merlin." Sora fixed his gaze on Aerith once more, his eyes determined and full of fire. "Riku said you thought there were exceptions to Merlin's idea that when people came to Radiant Garden after dying, they remained unchanged. He also said that you didn't explain what you meant."

Aerith chuckled now. She just felt so proud of Sora, and she couldn't bear to hide it. "You have the answer, Sora. You discovered it when you returned to us last year." She watched as he seemed to withdraw into himself to think, and when, at long last, realization dawned on him, her smile was as bright and happy as the one that broke out over his face. "Time has not stopped for Zack, nor has it stopped for me." Her gaze flickered down to her belly, and her smile softened. She was happy that time had not stopped for her and Zack. They could live the life that had been stolen from them, they could watch their children grow up, marry, and have children of their own.

Looking at her husband, she knew he felt the same way.

With their more serious discussion topics covered, they were able to move on to happier conversation. It didn't last long, as the boys needed baths and the dishes still had yet to be done. Remembering her promise to Zack, Aerith let the guys take care of the dishes while she sat outside with her thoughts. It was hard to avoid thinking about Sora and how he'd changed. The change was rather similar to the one Zack had undergone following his friend Angeal's death, in that he'd actually _talked_ about how he felt, therefore making it easier to accept what happened and move on. It was also rather like Tifa, who dealt with her grief by going off alone – never too far away for help to arrive, but far enough away that no one could hear her talk. Aerith wished that Tifa was able to see her like Cloud could, but she knew Tifa could feel her in the space beside her, and so her friend kept talking, and Aerith kept listening. It was far better than just holding it in. However, brooding for two years, continuing on a downward spiral, and hoping against hope that _something_ could still be done to change what happened made him far too much like Cloud.

_He's come a long way, though,_ she thought with a look of concentration. _I think he will be okay. With a mother like Tifa, an aunt like Yuffie, and uncles like Vincent and Reno, Sora will be able to move on. He's already taken the first steps on his own. _Her lips turned upward in a tiny smile. _If he needs to, he can always visit us. He and Zack seem to be getting along just fine._

A sharp movement from inside her womb startled her just as Zack and Sora returned from their respective duties giving Kadaj his bath and doing the dishes. It wasn't an emergency, yet she had both of them at her side in an instant. "Baby kicking again?" Zack asked knowingly, resting his palm over her belly.

She laughed a little, having recovered from the surprise. "He knows when Mommy's thinking."

"You mean _she_." Zack shot back teasingly. The baby kicked again, and he gently tapped a finger against Aerith's stomach. "Hey, settle down in there. Mommy needs you to behave."

Aerith and Sora burst out laughing at the semi-serious tone Zack used, and again when the baby continued moving. Calming herself a little, Aerith waved Sora over. "Have you ever felt a baby kick while it was still inside its mother's body, Sora?" she asked when he was close enough that she could reach for his hand. When he nodded, she smiled. "It's okay if you want to."

He was nervous, she could see that. Some of the color drained from his face, and his hands started trembling, but without further encouragement, he tentatively placed his hand on her stomach. Aerith gently rested her hand over his when he seemed ready to jerk away. For a few long minutes, they were still, until a tiny flicker of movement elicited a soft gasp of wonder from Sora. Aerith released his hand in favor of touching his face, then ruffling his hair, but Sora's hand remained. He was like a little child, excited about the birth of a new sibling. _Just like the boys,_ Aerith realized, watching her young friend thoughtfully.

She had always thought he was adorable, but she'd never been stronger in her conviction than now.

The flash from the camera, which startled them both, told her that Zack found the scene just as cute as she did. "Gotta have some pictures for the baby when he or she is old enough, yanno," he said with a grin. He looked at Sora meaningfully, his mako-blue eyes shining, but not with tears. "Don't be a stranger. You can visit us any time."

Sora blinked in surprise. "You mean it?"

Aerith giggled and, as Sora helped her up, she nodded. "Yes, he means it. I think Zack has taken a liking to you, and with good reason." She hugged him, and when his arms reached up to wrap around her with a noticeable degree of hesitation, she stroked his hair soothingly until he relaxed in her embrace. "Everything will be fine. I promise. You've done all you could. Let Cloud and Tifa take care of the rest."

"I know. Could you tell them 'hi' for me?" his voice was almost a whimper, and she knew he was fighting to keep his emotions in check for her sake.

Another pair of arms came to wrap around them both. "Next time Cloud visits the church, with or without Tifa, we'll pass the message on to him. He'll tell her." Zack kept his voice soft, soothing. His tone was fatherly, which Aerith thought was cute – and sweet. She also thought the way he was rubbing Sora's back was sweet. It was something the boy needed, even if her husband was just nine years older than him.

"Thanks," Sora murmured, still trying to hide the emotion that threatened to creep into his voice.

A long, drawn-out moment later, Sora leaned away. The sun was beginning to disappear. "I gotta go," he said with obvious reluctance. "Mom will worry that I drowned or something if I don't get home soon."

Aerith kissed his cheek softly before he backed away completely. "Take care, Sora, and don't worry. Everything will be alright."

He smiled at her words. "I'll try not to worry, but I can't promise not to worry about you." He laughed with Zack as she sighed. Hugging her once again, then giving Zack a hug as well, he backed away and turned to leave the porch. "There's a Gate in Market Square, right?" he asked, stopping at the arbor that served as a gate from the front yard to the backyard.

Aerith nodded. "I will open a Gate where I picked you up if you don't want anyone to know of your trip."

Sora stopped to think about it. "Yeah," he said, laughing. "I don't need the entire town asking questions. And Aerith?"

She tilted her head to the side in question, genuinely curious about what it was that he might say.

The smile he gave her reminded her of the fourteen-year-old boy he'd been when she first met him. "Thanks. For everything."

Aerith shook her head. "No, Sora. Thank you."

He paused, confusion evident in his face as he stared at her. "For what?"

"For not giving up."

She smiled when Sora laughed. "I didn't want to be like Dad, you know? I want Mom to see that I'm just as much her son as I am Dad's. I want everyone to see it." Waving, he disappeared around the side of the house, whistling as he went. Aerith listened to the happy tune, a children's song from Nibelheim she remembered hearing Tifa hum, sometimes even sing, when she was with Cloud. Bringing her right hand up to rest over her growing belly, Aerith wondered if her child would remember the songs she had already begun to sing to it.

"I can see why you say he's like me."

She twisted her head around to look up at Zack, who brought his left hand to rest on her belly over her hand, his right arm reaching around her shoulders to gently pull her close. Smiling, Aerith rested her head against his chest. "He's normally much more like you than this."

"Before or after I changed my hairstyle?"

"Your personality didn't change too much."

Zack snorted, but he did not deny her claim. "He's had a year and a half for those feelings to fester and boil over the way they did. A lot's happened to him. He can't stay the same kid you've always known forever."

Her smile faded a little. "I know. I suppose I'm just surprised by how much like his father he'd become. I know Cloud isn't the optimistic sort, but I never expected his son, who acts so much like you, Tifa and Yuffie, to act like that." She sighed when her husband began to rub her back soothingly. "I know it's part of who Cloud is, but it's still heartbreaking to watch him beat himself up."

"And it hurts just as much to see his son do the same," he finished for her. "If you want the truth of the matter, he was pissing me off a bit while I was walking him here." His statement inspired a faint round of giggles. "I'm not kidding. After watching Chocobo-head nearly kill himself with his guilt and grief, I wasn't going to put up with it from his kid, especially if it was going to upset you."

"Thank you for not hitting him," Aerith said, rolling her eyes.

Zack grunted as he turned her around to face him. "No more worrying, okay?" He pressed his lips to her forehead softly, his hands resting on either side of her belly. "He'll be fine. Chocobo-head and Tifa are fine, and will _be_ fine. Everything is okay for now. Let's just focus on keeping you and the baby healthy so that the boys and I will have both of you, and maybe a sibling for this one if you want another one."

Aerith sighed softly, feeling more like her usual self, as she hugged him close, her arms going around behind his neck. "I'd like that."

* * *

**27 May 2009**

Greetings, all! As promised, here is the seventh chapter. Unfortunately, due to circumstances both within and outside my control, this will be the last update for a while. My muse and I just need a break, then we'll be back and hopefully better than ever. I will not abandon _Second Chances_ for ages like I did before I posted Chapter 05. This story is my baby, and I promise, I _will_ finish it.

This chapter is dedicated with love to Am and Esa, my favoritest Aerith and Zack in the world. Love you guys! 3

As always, many, many thanks to my reviewers. I love you guys so much. You make my world go round. And a big, warm, happy "THANK YOU" to Ritsu-san and Shard, my amazingly awesome betas. This story would suck if not for them.

Until next time!


	8. Chapter 8

**rapture has moved!**

Dear Readers,

In light of the recent vigilante movement here on , I have decided to relocate. These vigilantes seek to report and delete poorly-written stories and stories with questionable (mature) content. As some of my stories do contain explicit content, I would rather relocate than risk my stories being deleted by some pro-censorship fascist pig, or risk being banned.

You can now find me at archiveofourown [dot] org [slash] users [slash] rapturesrevenge. Everything, from story updates to new fics, will be posted here.

Archive of Our Own (AO3) is currently in beta. As of now, the only way to join is via invite. I signed up for an invite in October and received my invitation to join the site in December. So far, I really like the site. Should you choose to sign up for an invite, I hope you will like it, too.

This story, whether it is a oneshot or part of a multi-chapter fic, will remain here, untouched. Should the vigilante movement be found pointless and brought to an end, I might consider returning. Until then, I bed you all farewell, and I hope to see you again at AO3.

Yours,

rapture


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